


Shattered Souls Make Good Pets

by Rieka



Series: The Extent of Love [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Dark America (Hetalia), M/M, OCs - Freeform, Torture, psychological damage, second work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:28:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 31,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29411223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rieka/pseuds/Rieka
Relationships: America/Russia (Hetalia)
Series: The Extent of Love [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1636936
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

The brakes skidded, dust flying up.

“Just use the machine gun!” she yelled, as her partner chuckled, “Instead of that stupid rifle!”

“Like hell,” Alfred said, half his body hanging out of the car as he aimed. The gun kicked, and an explosion burst from the sand, “is that the last one?”

“That appears to be-”

Bullets rained down on the car, making lines of white over the back window as it was pelted, and Rulyn started the car, skidding around to face their adversary. Alfred reloaded his gun and aimed, cursing as the bullet got stuck before smacking it a few times, throwing it to the side (coincidentally on his drivers lap) and grabbing a semi-automatic from the  
back seat, loading it while Rulyn danced around the enemy car.

Aiming, he fired, turning the car into a chunk of metal on fire, and shooting the man who tried to escape it.

“We gotta set the fires out,” Rulyn advised, “Australia ain’t exactly friendly with fire.”

“One moment,” Alfred said, raising a clawed hand and burying the vehicles without even touching them.

“Let’s go home,” Ru said with a smile as Alfred sat back down on the seat and strapped in, “I want some good food.”

“Agreed,” Alfred replied, the car going in the direction of the airport. It took a long while before they actually got to the back gate, the person sitting beside it under an umbrella  
taking one look at them before clicking a button and opening the gate.

“I’m gonna have to tune the car when we get home,” Alfred sighed, leaning on the window, “and replace the glass. Maybe fix the back window.”

“No, leave it broken,” Rulyn replied, “we’ll look like rapists driving this ‘round town.”

“But the thing is, when do we ever drive this car?”

“Eh, fair,” Alfred said as they started driving towards the plane. Alfred got a remote from the backseats pocket and clicked open the back, the planes cargo hold dropping as they  
drove in, Rulyn braking as Alfred clicked the remote again, the room becoming dark.

After Alfred slammed the door, the glass on the back window shattered and Alfred groaned, Rulyn staring at the broken glass like it was the worst thing to ever happen.

“You’re cleaning that,” was all Rulyn said, walking away to the pilots hold as Alfred followed her. She sat in the pilots seat, Alfred sitting beside her and kicking his feet up on the  
dash.

Rulyn started to regret specially made planes.

“Permission to take off?” Rulyn said, turning on the radio and tuning in.

“Which plane are you?”

“The unmarked one thats really fat.”

“... um… I see you… go on the third runway- do you know where that is?”

“Yes,” she said, the plane turning on as she started steering towards the specified runway, Alfred working on turning the air conditioning on because it was hot in Australia all the  
time.

“You can… take off. Nobody’s out on that one.”

“Thanks,” she replied, laughing as Alfred shook his head, still looking for that air conditioning. 

Runway 3 was next to the civilian hangers, and seeing as nobody was flying on this nice overheated tuesday, they were free to go.

Flying right on back to America, the home of the mentally unstable.

“Bro the battery’s low,” Rulyn said, pointing to a battery icon on the dash, “go charge it.”

“Why do I have to charge it?” he muttered, yawning as he clicked on the air conditioning.

“Who’s the one with the fucking electricity powers bitch.”

“Fine,” he groaned, pushing himself off the seat and walking around the cargo hold to the electricity area. There was a cord that normally plugged into the hanger back home  
laying on the ground next to the generator and he picked it up, starting to charge his powers. 

Checking the generator level, he started slowly pulsing it. It went from red to dark yellow. A few more times and it was back to light green and the plane wasn’t going to crash over the ocean.

“Good enough,” Alfred sighed, dropping the cord on the ground and going back to the pilots area just to tell Rulyn he was going to sleep in the people place. 

And sleep he did- a good four hours on the twenty hours it took to get back home. He was so thankful that the people at that airport did not care if he slept in his plane.

When he got back the plane was on autopilot and Rulyn was playing Mario Kart on a nintendo switch. They did that for almost five more hours before Rulyn was basically a zombie and she went to sleep, Alfred making sure to keep tabs on the plane while she was out.

He refilled the plane again, and went back to sleep.

When he got back up they had four more hours, which they did not spend playing cup pong on their phones.

“And, we’re pulling in,” Rulyn whispered to herself, slowing the plane considerably as they circled ahead, Alfred working on the wheels and turning things like lights off.

Seeing the cavern above the mansion was a comfort to say the least. It buried down into the garage, where you then could get into the house.

There was skidding as Rulyn clicked a button and the wings started folding, turning the plane into a fat car as she drove it past the entrance and towards the back, Alfred clicking a button on a different remote and opening the door, hearing roars of happiness from the other inhabitants of the cave.

Pulling it into its garage, the two left, Rulyn making sure open the latch and toss the plug out, walking out and plugging into the wall before following Alfred out.

“Ah!”

Alfred was jumped by one of his pets, the dragon squeaking as it licked his face.

A little black dragon, only about the side of a large house cat, with big ears, tiny horns, and a feathered tail.

“Aw, little Tiko wants some love,” Rulyn cooed, walking away as Alfred was bombarded with kisses.

“Off me-” he coughed, pushing himself up and carrying the dragon- “there.”

“I…” Rulyn said, looking at her phone and having a mini mental breakdown, “am now going to go wash all the animals on the premise…”

“Good luck,” he laughed, “don’t get two scratched up by the cats.”

“Uh huh, go check on your pregnant cat,” Rulyn muttered, walking down the ramp as Alfred walked back towards the plane, letting Tiko down as he did. Clicking open the cargo  
hold, he drove the car out, driving it through the garage and into the car workshop in the mountain.

“Mom!” Indiana yelled, jumping up and down as Alfred parked the car in the corner, leaving the keys on the hood before giving his daughter a hug. She had little splotches of oil  
on her t-shirt from adding some to all the cars, and he noticed that the AI was still taking some out of the storage compartment.

“How’re you doing honey?” Alfred asked, petting her hair as she laughed, green eyes wide as her italian curl bounced.

“Good!” she exclaimed, before looking at the broken wreck that was the car, “But what happened to… that.”

“We weren’t expecting machine guns,” Alfred said, pursing his lips.

“That car is not a school,” Indiana sighed, “I’ll start the process for more bulletproof glass.”

“Thanks,” Alfred said, his daughter waving as he started walking away, “get a trustworthy adult to help you.”

“Fine.”

Shaking his head, Alfred left the room, walking through the garage and into the hallway to the house. This area was silent at the time. It was a question how fast he would get  
home.

‘Greetings,’ the Amur leopard purred, walking over with his usual slouch. He had an injury in his shoulders from when he was a kitten, and nobody knew how to help it without  
extensive bone-changing surgery. 

“Hello Colchester, you seem to be adjusting well,” Alfred said, petting the leopard behind the ears. Such a beautiful animal, almost completely lost to poaching like his precious  
bison.

‘I’m safe. I’m fine with adjusting as long as I’m not in a box again.’

“Is that why you sleep outside?”

‘Yes.’

“You can sleep in the house you know,” Alfred replied, “It's not just pets and small animals.”

‘I don’t want to intrude-’

“I have woken up with a tiger in my bed, nobody cares. You want to sleep in bed with a human or some of the other animals you can, just be nice.”

‘Well, you all have been highly polite…’ Colchester said, his ears flicking back.

“Aren’t you becoming friends with my brother’s big cats?”

‘I wouldn’t call it… correct.’

“Go do that, then spread out from there,” Alfred said, kissing the animal on its forehead as it still before Alfred walked away, the leopard staying there stunned.

Human affection wasn’t something he was given. Just human beatings… but-

He turned around. He wanted to run but running would end up hurting so bad that he wouldn’t be able to move after. He went to find Felis and Lyncas. He knew where they would be.

Someone better open the elevator because he couldn’t go up the stairs.

Alfred hummed as he continued along, helping the youngest human child, Devika, with her latin pronunciation before trying to find his own youngest kids.

“Mom!” Via, the US Virgin Islands, exclaimed, running up and hugging him. Mariana started laughing and clapping as Rico and Guam got up to hug him too.

“Samoa, what’s the matter?” Alfred asked gently to his daughter, who was sitting in the corner with her knees up to her chest and her head down.

“They won’t let me play Warrior with them.”

“That’s because you’re always too rough!” Via countered.

“It’s only Via that cares,” Rico explained as Guam nodded, Mariana waddling over and asking for pick-up-zee’s, her mother grabbing her under the arms before resting her against  
his chest.

“First of all, Via, knock it off right now. Second of all, I don’t want Ana playing Warrior with you four, she’s too young, got it?”

“But-”

“Samoa can play with you if she wants. It’s only you guys forcing her to play that I don’t want to see.”

“Fine…” Via muttered, pouting as Guam ran over to help his sister up.

Guam was mute after getting shot in the head when he was physically three when Japan overtook him. He fled to the ocean and jumped in before he could be captured and was  
found and brought back to Alfred by Whale Dude.

He was thankful he lived, and he remembered being pissed that Guam was at the military base in the first place. His government wanted to test if personifications could feel invasion, even after he insisted they couldn’t.

He was right.

And now his child couldn’t talk, mostly relying on over exaggerated movements or charades to communicate, but he did know ASL.  
It was one of the worst injuries any of his kids had.

“You kids play nice now,” Alfred said, ruffling Rico’s hair, “don’t break anything expensive.”

“Okay mom!”

Guam waved at him, smiling.

As soon as Alfred walked away, the kids conversed again. With Mariana out of the way they could get more gorey instead of being vanilla.

“I still don’t think it will work,” Samoa said, “Guam got shot before he could heal himself.”

“But listen to him!” Via replied, motioning to her brother, who let out a garbled sound, “If he can do that he can talk again!”

“Um… Via, he got shot in the brain before he could heal himself, and brains aren’t livers, they don’t grow back.”

“He can heal himself now! What if his injury is healing?”

“Because, if that was the case Columbia wouldn’t have half a face.”

“This isn’t a scar, it's an organ!” she said, desperate as Rico patted her shoulder.

“Skin is an organ.”

“Please Guam, say anything,” she pleaded, on the verge of tears as her brother looked at her with a pained face.

“Iuh coh,” he tried, holding his head, “noh.”

“I can’t, no?”

He sighed ‘I feel woozy’ at her and the entire group got worried.

“Let’s just bring him to Samuel,” Rico sighed, hooking his brothers hand over his shoulder, “hurry up, I’m not explaining this.”

The kids went out another door to sneak their way to the medical room as Alfred sighed, bouncing a sleeping Mariana. He wished he could have done so much more, but by the  
time he had gotten to American shores the injury was unable to be healed magically by Maikoh or medically by Samuel.

He was just thankful he was alive. Alive was enough. No child was a disappointment as long as they weren’t six feet under, and if one of his children ever died, the only one he’d be disappointed in would be himself.

The day went by, him running around, saying hi to his kids, taking care of issues, spending a good five minutes reading the one report in his inbox about a mini fire in the metalworking area. Nothing major, just needed to get one of the posts replaced.

It was only so long before it was night again, the night alarm sounding as he watched children run in for dinner. He wasn’t hungry.

“Hey dumbass,” Lani said, walking over to him and placing a plate of food on his desk, “Rulyn made this special for you, now feast while I go feast this ass downstairs on all the  
meat.”

“Oyster steak?” he said, studying the cut for a few seconds. Looked like a garlic grilled oyster steak with mashed potatoes and gravy with a side of peas and cornbread, lemon iced tea as well. She knew him, that was for sure.

“Yep, enjoy,” she waved, walking away, “I heard a rumor that she made lemon cake as well.”

“A rumor, you’re in the kitchen- oh,” he stated, “I’ll be down.”

“Good,” was all she said before shutting the door.

Scarfing down his food, he felt better. Food was always comforting for him, and the knowledge that he had food as well. But that was bad because yatta-yatta health commercials he had a high metabolism and it was fine. He could eat without regretting it.

Or can you?

Ah, Trump, I still see you’re being an asshole.

Did he name the voices in his head, you’ll never know.

He got his slice of cake and went up to bed, laying down and staring at the ceiling. Hero was asleep on her special bed because it was starting to bother her when she tried to jump, and Freedom was on her perch, fast asleep.

He rolled over to face his window, watching the lights dance off the curtains-

Something dropped from the ceiling and he jumped up, being met with his daughter.

“Alaska, I told you to say out of the vents,” Alfred said, “you end up covered in dust bunnies.”

“I’m sorry mom,” she said, brushing off her shirt and sweatpants, “but I couldn’t sleep… Can I stay with you?”

“Come here,” he said, patting the bed as she walked around, sitting down before laying down, covering her feet with a stray throw and getting a pillow from her mother.

“Thank you,” Alaska whispered.

“Not being a dick is not something to thank someone for,” Alfred said, kissing her on the forehead, “now go to sleep my dove.”

“Horosho mama. (okay mom)”


	2. Chapter 2

“Cousin!” Satan exclaimed, hugging him gently and patting him on the back a few times.

“Hello Lucy,” Alfred said with a slight smile. This was a good party. Nobody was drugging anybody because this was basically just a giant family party. And raping your family is   
not an acceptable trait, punishable by death or just getting the shit beaten out of you.

“How are you? I heard you got a little, ya’know,” he snickered, tapping the back of his neck.

“I’m fine,” he replied. He could sense Ivan’s emotions whenever he wanted, and he’s been stressed recently, so he’s been compensating with dirty text messages and jokes so that he would loosen up.

“Does he know?”

“He was close a few times, but no,” Alfred sighed, “I’m too worried to tell him.”

“You’re in your own head too much,” Satan poked him in the forehead, “he’ll accept you. He has too. You might actually malfunction if he leaves you- oh wait.”

“That’s the point,” Alfred said, “he deserves to stay in ignorant bliss.”

“Wow,” Satan replied, “you really are depressed.”

“Hey, no need to be an ass.”

“This is a party, let yourself go,” Jesus said, walking over, “you don’t need to be so uptight. I can sense your worry from across the venue.”

Alfred sighed again, looking up at the dark purples and reds of Hell’s roof before saying, “I need some wine.”

“I got you,” Jesus said, grabbing a water bottle from one of the passing waiters and shaking it up, the water turning to wine in a few seconds.

“All I can say is, thank you, I love this.” 

“So, my beautiful and adoring little brother, where would there happen to be a sexy nymph lady with blue skin and purple and black hair anywhere near,” Satan asked as Jesus   
sighed.

“No, she isn’t here, only her brother.”

“Good enough, ya boi’s getting laid tonight.”

The two watched as he started looking around for the person he was looking for.

“Why does he get to be disappointing,” Jesus muttered, crossing his arms over his toga as he sighed, running a hand through his shoulder length brown hair.

“Hades puts him under a lot of pressure apparently,” Alfred shrugged, “how are you, how’s your husband?”

“Lazarus has been good, I’ve been well,”

“I hope, is he here?”

“No,” Jesus sighed, “he didn’t want to be a bother with his seeing stick.”

“Aw, he’s never a bother,” Alfred replied, seeing someone coming towards him through the crowd.

“He thinks he is, I can’t force him to do anything,” Jesus shook his head, seeing the person too.

“President Amy!” he called opening his arms up as she walked over to him, dressed elegantly. He noticed the glimmer on the sharp ends of her small, black, bird wings, and the   
shine in her orange eyes as she walked over to him. Not to mention the glowing red sword attached to her hip and the fact her crown of horns looked especially polished.

“Chief Dyami, how are you, how are the kids?” she replied, “I haven’t seen any, well, maybe I have, I’m not exactly in the mood to pay attention.”

“All of us are fine, thank you for asking,” he bowed his head, “you?”

“Good, I suppose,” she shrugged, “I heard a rumor you might be getting married soon.”

“Marriage is not on the table yet.”

“Yet,” she scoffed, “I better be invited.”

“Of course,” he said without thinking. Shit. He had to… well he should but he didn’t want to but he should.

“Don’t have a crisis on me,” she said, waving a clawed hand in front of his face.

“I’m not,” he defended, crossing his arms as she copied him. Jesus got bored and wandered away, probably to go find one of his twelve bffs. Or all of them.

“Yes you-”

“President Amy,” Duke Allocen growled, “I require you fuck off, hurry along now.”

“Don’t talk to me like that-”

“How about we don’t fight,” Sekhmet said with a forced smile, pushing the two away from each other. Unlike Duke Allocen and President Amy, she didn’t have a worthless title,   
being most known for slaughtering a ton of Egyptians for fun.

They got the idea and backed off.

“You’re staying with me now,” Sekhmet said, holding her arm out for him to take.

“If someone asks me if I’m getting married again I swear,” Alfred complained, her taking an earful as he was led over to where Hades, Persephone, Ra, and a few others resided.

“You aren’t,” Sekhmet replied, “you just have to take one look at you and realize that you aren’t ready for marriage. You haven’t been mated have you?”

“Uh…”

“You are the stupidest person I’ve ever had the displeasure of talking too.”

“Hey! It was for uh… a good reason…”

He got slapped on the back of the head.

“Oh, Alfie!” Persephone cooed, “Over here, come chat with us.”

Oh no.

“Okay…” he replied as Sekhmet seemed to get the idea and ran away.

“Is there anything you need?” he asked.

“Sit down.” Hades ordered, Alfred sitting down in one of the last remaining chairs.

“We want you to do something, you got the package, correct?” Persephone asked, looking at him with a look he couldn’t quite place.

“Yes, a crate full of mythical creature eggs, we put them in the hatchery,” Alfred replied, “unless you don’t want them in the hatchery, then I can have them removed.”

“We have reason to believe one of the eggs was swapped,” Hades sighed, “is there any pure black eggs in the batch?”

“Yes,” Alfred responded, confused, “isn’t it just a dragon egg?”

“I have reason to believe it’s a Titan instead.”

“Smash it?”

“Yes, it’s better to make a mistake then to jeopardize the safety of your clan and our home,” Persephone interjected, “Ra, go get the egg.”

“As you wish, my queen,” the sun demon replied, weaving his way through the crowd, his cane clicking the ground as people moved to avoid his heat.

“Go enjoy yourself, that is all,” Persephone ordered softly, ruffling his hair as he smiled, walking away. He heard the beating of wings above him and saw phoenixes, multiple   
dragon species, griffins, and the likes, fly over in a huge group.

He heard a clap of thunder and his thunderbird came down from the group, landing on his arm as he held it out.

“Hello Thunder,” he said as the bird beat its wings one last time before pulling them in. He could feel the electricity radiating from him, making his hair start to move slowly   
towards the static.

‘Hello Master,’ Thunder replied, ‘Freedom got stuck on a rock and asked me to come get you. Also, when do we get to leave, it smells bad in here.’

“Be nice,” Alfred cooed as the bird jumped off his arm, walking in front of him. A few people said hello to him as he passed, waving back to them as Thunder led him to where   
Freedom was, one of her feathers stuck in the crack of the rock. Walking over, he pulled her wing up, freeing the feather in an instant as his bird instantly jumped for him,   
nuzzling into his shoulder.

‘It hurt so badly!’ Freedom cried out, making a few people several feet away jump, ‘It was stuck on my flight feathers!’

“Shh, you’re okay now, and be quiet,” Alfred said, putting Freedom on his shoulder, “you’re scaring people.”

‘Can we go home now?’ Thunder interjected, ‘People keep yelling at me to stay away from the food.’

“You shouldn’t be near the food in the first place,” Alfred sighed, “A few more hours, then you can go back to the surface.”

‘Where is the surface? It all looks the same. Dark, like a cyberpunk society with less drugs,’ Freedom said, puffing her feathers.

“I swear to whatever god-”

“You needing something?” Hermes said, coming over scepter in hand, “Maybe some fun~?”

“There are faster ways to get stabbed,” Alfred said as Thunder yowled and Alfred pulled a knife from his belt, pressing it against the speed demons throat.

“Chill, chill, I wouldn’t,” Hermes said, holding his hands up, Freedom squawking in his face to tell him to fuck off, “just wanted to know-”

“No, I am not getting married.” 

“Not that,” Hermes replied, “but good gossip- where’s Zeus, I’m delivering a message from Hera to him but I can’t find him-”

“Check the nearest strip bar that isn’t Middle Earth,” Alfred yawned, “and I swear if he gets another person pregnant that I then have to convince to put up for adoption, adopt, and   
bring down here I will be pissed.”

“Got it, I’ll make sure to tell him that too,” Hermes said, giving him finger guns before flying up.

The Reaper passed with a pissy Thanatos and a laughing Abbadon and Apollyon and Alfred got minorly concerned.

“Come on Thunder,” Alfred said, walking away from that interaction and onto the next before realizing something.

“Where’s Kanti?”

‘Last time I saw her she was playing with Cerberus,’ Thunder said, jumping up on his shoulder as he started walking away from the party and towards the outskirts of the castle,   
looking over the railing of the garden to Kanti, a few of the other wolves and dogs from his home, and Cerberus playing happily.

He watched them with a smile on his face.

Unlike the myths -which got weird- Cerberus was only a little bigger than a wolf, with three dog heads and a dalmatian pattern.

Cerberus did mean spotted- and in English his name was just Spot.

Hades was a dork.

“Kanti, up here girl!”

‘Huh? MASTER!’ the wolf exclaimed happily, jumping up the steps and running at him. He managed to hold his ground as Kanti stood on her back legs, licking his face happily.

Cerberus barked at him, running up to the wall and jumping on a fountain before jumping all the way up.

‘Play with us!’ the three-headed dog exclaimed happily.

“I’m sorry, I can’t puppy,” he replied, petting him on the main head as the others whined.

‘But why do you have to take Kan?’ Cerberus asked, tilting his heads.

“Cerberus, why aren’t you with Hades and Persephone?”

‘I couldn’t find them,’

Alfred sighed, “c’mon, pups, if you’re with me go find your taker’s! I don’t want you getting lost.”

‘As you wish!’

Hence four dogs and two wolves running up the stairs before running in random directions.

“Follow me,” Alfred said to the dog, walking with Cerberus following him on the left and Kanti on the right. Coincidentally, Freedom was on his right shoulder, and Thunder on his   
left.

He could hear the whispering.

A symbol of War for Peace (Bald Eagle), Creation (She-Wolf), Power (Thunderbird), and Security (Cerberus) following him.

And it was making people go nuts.

He could barely manage to not laugh at the faces people were given him, and he saw the Oracle give him a look of surprise before turning to smoke and the Fates gave him a dirty   
look.

“Idiot,” Rulyn growled, Lani breaking down laughing as soon as she saw him, Sami looking at him with confusion.

“I think I’m just gonna do this now. People haven’t asked me a single question since I got all these animals.”

“Why is Cerberus with you?” Sami asked as the dog looked up at her.

“Where’s Hades? I haven’t seen him,” Alfred said, “and don’t say the party room. We all know he’s an introvert.”

“Right here,” Hades said, almost making him jump, “what are you doing? You’re scaring people.”

“I’m not even being symbolic these are my pets!” Alfred said, before tapping Cerberus, “except this one. This one’s yours.”

“I have no idea what to do with you,” Hades sighed, patting him on the head, “but you’re alive and safe, that’s enough.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Demonology/Mythical Creatures Guide/Lore of Jesus that people don’t learn but I can clarify because I went to a Catholic school for eight years:

Jesus, in the Bible, said he loved one of his friends, Lazarus (who was blind and unable to be healed even by him, might have been a spirit or just something symbolic), and not in the friend way.

Satan is described as hot and compared to precious gemstones, and probably has zero issue with getting laid.

President Amy is a female fallen angel, imagined as a pretty white lady with orange eyes and long black hair, with small black angel wings ending in blades. She has a sword.

Duke Allocen (or Allocer) is a male demon/fallen angel who is described as a great duke and is depicted as short with a beard and long hair, normally seen riding an alligator,   
horse, or dragon. He has a mace.

Hades is a greek god- in this he’s just a demon in charge of hell (whoops). Long black hair that normally gets tied up in a knot, light blue eyes, pale skin. He has a scepter.

Persephone is another greek god. Married to Hades, she is the queen of the underworld. Short white hair, purple to pink chameleon-like skin. She could probably kill someone by   
snapping.

Sekhmet is an Egyptian war goddess, generally depicted as a lion furry but respectable. She was so violent that they had to take away half of her power and make a new goddess   
from her so she has a sorta kid.

Ra is the Egyptian god of the sun, becoming a sun demon in this. Head of a bird, scepter, egyptian death mask, mix it for three seconds on medium and you have Ra.

Thunderbirds are normally depicted as fairly large black and white birds with giant wings, and are a symbol of storms, lightning, protection, and power. I normally give them a   
crown of gold feathers because this is supposed to be a lightning creature.

Yes Cerberus means Spot/Spotted.

If you’re curious about anything else LOOK IT UP I DON’T WANT TO MAKE THIS TOO LONG <3


	3. Chapter 3

Alfred hummed to himself as he shut the car door, Rulyn issuing a goodbye before saying she was gonna ‘test her French’ and she drove off.

Why was it so hot in Paris what the fuck.

Didn’t help he was wearing long sleeves, but then again he always was. He should be used to this, but he supposed nobody was used to global warming yet.

He almost forgot that most buildings in Europe didn’t have air conditioning.

This was not very fun. 

Wandering through the halls, he looked around for the meeting place, feeling his phone buzz as he saw the caller and smiled.

“I see you~”

“Baby this isn’t fun, where are you?” Alfred said, turning around, he couldn’t see anyone, but the cameras.

“Are you in the security room?”

“How’d you know?”

“How did you get in there?” Alfred countered, finding a map and running towards where the security office was.

“Nobody’s here, the door was open,” Ivan replied, laughing as Alfred found him, hanging up without saying anything else and putting his phone in his pocket. He heard Ivan curse   
before he slipped into the room, hiding in the shadows of the room while Ivan went to look at the computer screens, trying to figure out where he was before getting really   
confused.

Alfred walked up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder as Ivan jumped for the sun.

“Alfred what the fuck?!” Ivan exclaimed, hugging him and resting his chin on his head as Alfred laughed, wrapping his arms around his neck and holding him close.

“I missed you,” Alfred said, nuzzling into his scarf.

They had time- a good twenty minutes before the meeting would start.

“I missed you too, zaichik, (bunny)” Ivan replied, relaxing for the first time in almost a month. It was June 16th for goodness sakes! He’d hardly been able to relax, he remembered   
his coworkers calling him panicky and sighed. They were right, he’d gotten so used to being around Alfred for a month it was hard to change his ways.

“What’d you get up too?” Alfred asked as he let go, sitting on the ground as Alfred crawled over to sit beside him, the Russian wrapping his arm around his waist and pulling him   
closer.

“Paperwork, so much paperwork. Not to mention my boss, he isn’t the… accepting type, but at least he wouldn’t hurt me,”

“You talk about humans like they’re lesser beings yet you’re always think they’re gonna hurt you,” Alfred replied, “sounds like someone’s in denial about their fears~”

“Alfred,” Ivan growled, kissing him on the forehead, “we do not talk about the things I’m afraid of, because half of them are losing you.”

“You have a toxic masculinity issue, but thanks.”

“What did you do?” Ivan changed the subject as Alfred shook his head.

“I went and hung out with Rulyn! And guess what, we named one of the animals after one of your cities!”

“Aw,” Ivan replied, “which city?”

“Chita, because the one time I went to that city everyone was really nice, and Snow Leopard we named it after is really nice,” Alfred said as Ivan smiled, kissing him on the hair.

“Does really nice mean not biting the handlers or actively looking for cuddles?”

“Both!”

“I always had this strange feeling you could actually talk to animals, what do your people call it? Animal whispering?” 

“Ya, and no, I don’t have that, I wish though! Animals just like me because I’m nice to them and I’m not afraid to give them human affection that they’ve never experienced,” Alfred   
said, scratching his temple and looking away, before looking back and smiling softly at Ivan.

Ivan just sighed, looking at him with an expression that made him want to cry. How could there be that much love in one’s gaze? Impossible, impractical-

Yet he found himself returning it.

“Can I kiss you?” Ivan asked, running a hand over the back of his head, tangling it into his hair before standing, Alfred following his example with peaked interest.

“Of course,” Alfred replied, tilting his head as he was grabbed by the lower back and pulled close, ending up with him pressed against Ivan with his arms around his neck and his   
back at an angle.

Their lips connected, bringing them into a long withheld kiss. Neither had realized how much they missed it.

“I love you,” Alfred said, panting as he tried to gain his breath.

“I love you too, moy dorogoy.”

Latvia had no idea what he just witnessed, but he ran like hell. He was supposed to see if Russia and America were around since everyone else had the sense to come early but   
wasn’t expecting that. Was not expecting anything like that. Probably the opposite of that.

Maybe because Russia was in love he wouldn’t hurt him- wait, Russia hadn’t touched him since 1987. Why was he still so worried about this? Oh right, PTSD. Well fuck.

Why was he shaking so badly? No, he had to get back to the meeting hall and tell everyone- wait, what if Russia got mad?! Then he’d be a goner!

“Latvia?” Estonia said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “What’s wrong?”

“I saw Russia and America kissing then professing their love and now I have no idea what to do!” Latvia exclaimed, tears falling down his cheeks, “Oh wait.”

“Are you okay?” Estonia asked, “You didn’t hit yourself on the head did you?”

“I’m being serious!” Latvia said, starting to tremble so bad that he looked like an angry toddler, Estonia raising an eyebrow to him.

“Yep, you hit your head,”

“What does ‘I love you’ mean then!” Latvia replied as Estonia actually started to look like he believed him.

“Oh we’re getting beat,” Estonia whispered, stunned, “wanna go tell everyone?”

“No!”

“Let’s go,”

Estonia dragged the Latvian back to the meeting hall, letting him sit down before walking up to the podium, Lithuania and Poland looking at him confused. Most of the other   
countries didn’t seem to care.

“I have an announcement!”

“Leave it for the meeting Estonia,” Germany replied tiredly, the chirpy Italian beside him talking his ear off.

“This isn’t meeting related,”

“We can gossip later.”

“Let him speak mon ami,” France interjected as Estonia realized that everyone was looking at him. Without anyone to scare him, he felt free to talk.

“Russia and America might be dating.”

“Might?!”

“What?!”

“Russia-san and America-kun? Since when?”

“They were just fighting!”

“Aw, it is amour!”

“Shut it frog, this is my child we’re talking about!”

“I’m not that surprised-aru~ Americans are weird.”

There was so much getting yelled at him that he barely realized that America and Russia were walking into the room…

Oh. Oh no.

This was a bad idea.

“And Estonia looks like a deer in headlights,” America muttered to himself, hearing the noise but tuning it out. 

Wait they were talking about him. And how it’s… nonsense?

A few people turned around, saw him and Russia standing side by side, and smacked the table really hard, drawing the attention of everyone else, who looked one part scared, one   
part happy, and one part confused.

“Are you two fucking?!” Prussia yelled as he saw Ivan shift in the corner of his eye, probably just about ready to get his pipe and knock some teeth in.

“What the fuck.” was all America said, playing dumb.

“Uh… Estonia said it not me!”

Oh that explained his expression.

“Don’t hit them,” he whispered to Ivan walking over to the table and leaning his elbows on it.

“So, what do ya want to know?”

Hence the curious whispering. They sounded like students when the teacher leaves the room during a test.

“Are you actually dating?” Poland asked, his feet kicked up as he painted his nails.

Alfred looked to Ivan for confirmation, the Russian just shrugging. He looked… angry, but at least he wasn’t gonna kill anyone.

That’s a very big maybe.

“Yes,”

Somebody squealed. Hungary and Japan seemed to want porn, something he was not giving them, and everyone else was just loud. Even Ivan looked concerned.

“Brother, is this true?” Belarus asked. Something about her seemed off, but America ignored it.

“Yes,”

More squealing and people being loud for no reason whatsoever.

Why did it matter?

Oh right. Gossip was important.

“This will not be used against us in manners of politics, warfare, and trade.” Alfred interjected before this got out of hand and he was being blackmailed.

“Of course, you’re protected by our rules of conduct,” Germany replied, seeming to be as fine as he could possibly be with the happy Italian in his face.

Estonia managed to come off his throne, running over to his seat and sitting down, trying to blend in.

“Sit down!” Germany yelled, “It is time for the meeting to start!”

“Shut up!”

“Ya, we wanna gossip!”

“I’ll give you three seconds to sit the fuck down!”

“We aren’t children!”

Well, well, well, looks like Poland and Germany were fighting again.

The two sat down in their seats, Russia being left alone by his siblings (Ukraine didn’t want to talk to him and Belarus was shocked silent), and America getting harrassed by   
England.

“This is unacceptable young man! Inappropriate for you to even think of touching that vile- er… empire, let alone letting him touch you! You were just fighting a few months ago   
and now you’re doing a holy act-”

“Never say that again, boomer,” America said, “or I will lodge a bullet between your eyes.”

“That is no way to speak to your father!”

He wasn’t even his father. His father was dead… England was looking very… not dead.

“Then who was my mom?”

“Uh… you appeared,” England shook his head, America giving him a look like he believed him while he was secretly plotting his death.

Trying to remove my family are you? Well, that’s not good for you.

“What were you talking about?” he asked, putting his hand in his hoodie pocket and feeling for the switchblade he kept, just in case.

“How you shouldn’t be dating him!”

“Why?”

“He’s Russia!”

“What kind of reason is that? Give me a good one now, try for once please.”

“Oh you little brat…” England growled.

“Can’t think of one? Wow, that’s so surprising.”

“I’ll tell you what! I fought in countless wars and I won’t have you disrespecting-”

He kinda tuned it out from there. Was he not allowed to have a boyfriend? Was this little bitch gonna be a little bitch?

He wanted his real dad. His real dad was nice, liked knitting flower crowns and playing in the river. 

His dad was one of his mother’s seven husbands (don’t blame the high priest that married them, he didn’t know what to do, thought they were gods and wanted to keep them   
from war). Then of course there was his aunt, who married a primordial being and popped out Satan and Jesus, threw Jesus into Israel, and put Satan into Hell for crying too much.   
He got raised by Persephone.

Very much a vodka aunt and a crack uncle, but much more psychotic.

“Were you even listening?”

“No.”

“How dare-”

“Angleterre, shut up.” France interjected, “let the child have amour, he deserves it just as much as anybody.”

“I just think-”

“When did I ask for your opinion?”

England started talking again but he ignored it, looking at his brother, who had been staring at him since he sat down. His head snapped to the table and America sighed.

“America, can I talk to you?” Belarus said politely as England shut up, America standing and following her out of the meeting room.

Everyone was scared she was gonna kill him, especially Russia.

“I’m sorry Natalia, I know you loved him,” Alfred said as she smiled softly at him, kissing his cheek and pulling him into a hug.

“I’m just glad it’s you,” she replied softly.

Nobody seemed to remember that they lived together for almost forty years until Natalia had to go back home because of an issue in her country that turned out to be fake.

He still felt bad for removing her memories of the household. To her, his home was a big empty mansion in rural New York. Same with Romano and Lithuania. 

“Be safe, some people are out to get you, I don’t want you breaking my brothers heart or I will deface your grave.”

“I know, I look at the news.” Alfred laughed as she smiled weakly. She looked so scared, so worried about her brother.

“Do you know me?”

“Of course!” she replied, “I don’t see… oh. Still as good at reading people as ever, and I try to be stoic.”

“Thank you anyways,” Alfred replied, walking back towards the door, “shall we go?”

“It’s best.”

Everyone looked surprised that he was still alive, uninjured… did he pay her off or something? 

The meeting actually ended up starting, the whispering never stopping, and they got through like… three presentations.

This is why he just didn’t do his, nobody went.

“What do you suppose we do about global warming America~aru?” China asked, looking at him with a gaze that screamed a mix of ‘I hate you, but I can’t’.

He had to stop himself from saying ‘die.’

“I’m still saying robot.”

“America you do understand that would never work,” Germany said for the first time. Wow, instead of being called an idiot he was being politely corrected. This was new. He liked   
having a boyfriend everyone is scared of.

“Of course I do,” America yawned, “there isn’t even enough stray metal, not to mention the fact that I’m already working on powering planes and trucks with algae.”

Everyone looked confused. Where was the idiot? Did Russia beat it out of him? Was he a pawn?

“Do you even have the money to work on a project like that?” Spain asked, looking at him with a tilted head.

“My government’s a leech, of course I do.”

Well that made the room silent pretty damn fast.

“Uh… okay!” Germany exclaimed, “With that in mind, you can leave!”

Nations left the room, some leaving stray glances towards him. Nobody expected someone to just… admit that. Now they were curious to see what North Korea would do if they   
got him a girlfriend. Or boyfriend actually. Nobody really knew.

Alfred and Ivan walked out together, Ivan carrying his bag and Alfred carrying everything he brought to the meeting: his phone.

He cupped Ivan’s cheek and stood on his tip toes, kissing him on the lips before saying, “I have a driver, text you tonight?”

“If you don’t I’ll think something’s wrong, dorogoy,” Ivan replied, kissing him once on the forehead, “I love you, goodbye.”

“Bye babe! Love you too!”

He didn’t have to yell, but he did. It was fine…

He was still embarrassed about getting found out by the other countries. Would his boss be mad? Probably- wait, Alfred had listed terms. He didn’t even need to tell his boss   
because it didn’t matter. Score.

“Hey Ru,” he said, getting in the front seat.

“You aren’t crying? I’m concerned,” Rulyn replied, driving out of the parking lot to the airport.

“All the nations know about me and Ivan, and they’re leaving me alone now!”

“Good on ‘em,” she laughed, “although he wasn’t exactly a force.”

“He is to them.”

“Everyone is a force when you’re weak.”

“Some people don’t have the mind to become stronger.”

“Fair,” she sighed, keeping a hand on the steering wheel as she drove. A few people saw the American license plate and honked, neither paying them any mind.

It took almost an hour before they got to the airport, the man opening the gate, them finding their plane, hailing the tower, and setting off.

“Je déteste parler français, (I hate speaking French),” she muttered under her breath, “you have to be light~ and airy~ or everyone will get mad at you.”

“Only people in Paris will get mad at you,”

“Well, thankfully we’re going back to Ohio. Where I can yell at people in a real language.”

“What counts as a real language?” Alfred asked, kicking his feet up on the dash of the plane.

“Sposobnost’ ne byt malenkoy stepvoy, (the ability to not be a little bitch).”

“So you just hate it because it isn’t fenetic?”

“No, but I hate that too.”

“Wow.”

They continued talking as they got to the ocean, Alfred taking that time to call Ivan, agreeing to talk tomorrow morning.

Since their plane was out of commission (long story, lots of fire), they had to take a random plane they rented from the nearby airport, which meant sitting in the car for another   
hour to drive back to the house. 

“Yay,” Alfred cheered, pumping his fists as Rulyn entered the code to open the gate.

“You sound tired.”

“I am, I can’t wait to get home and sleep,” he said, smiling.

Within seconds the window on his side was shattered, he heard Rulyn scream, and the car collided with the mountain on her side.

He heard glass break and saw black.


	4. Chapter 4

He hummed, rewrapping the wounds along his patent as he squirmed, cursing under his breath.

One person had woken up.

Coahoma didn’t snore like she normally did, instead letting out straggled sounds from her mouth. Her side was wrapped thickly with bandages from bullet wounds that had   
wounded her greatly. Although she wasn’t going to die from the injuries she had sustained, it would take time for her to overcome them.

Koko (Blackfoot), Kele (Yakama), Gad (Navajo), Maikoh, and Tala, were all suffering precise wounds from snipers, while Adany (Cherokee), Pachu’a (Hopi), Chusi, Harkahome   
(Cheyenne), Ziracuny (Kiowa), and Jolon all suffered from random assortments of wounds during the main assault.

Maralah (Sioux) had head damage. Nebraska had gotten beaten. Kentucky, Tennessee, Ohio, Illinois, and Michigan all had stab wounds. Columbia was targeted and shot in the   
neck. Conner had a rock thrown onto him. Some others had been poisoned. Oregon had a goddamn date rape drug used on her.

Alaska had almost been set on fire and fell down a mountain, Hawaii sporting similar injuries.

Hesutu (Miwok) was one of the least injured physically, instead having been dragged into the water and half-drowned.

Some of the worst injuries were on the immortalized. Sami and Cole had both been shot in different parts of their torsos. 

Rulyn was probably one of the worst, and this was the most injured he’d ever seen her. She always had a sense for when something bad would happen, and normally was able to   
turn around, but she was cursed with strong emotion and it made her mind not have its usual qualities.

Bullet wounds ran all along her legs and stomach, and she had severe head trauma and a concussion. Hopefully she wouldn’t become comatose.

Alfred had been thrown out of the car window. He only had minor bruising on his back and a few scratches, his body had healed itself almost completely before he passed out   
from shock.

Lani was the one who was awake, drinking a cup of tea as Bodaway sat with her, chatting lightly as they cast quick glances at their fallen comrades.

She had only got cut by a few pieces of glass, but one part had impaled into her shoulder, and he was surprised she had woken up so fast.

They had lost a fight. It had been so fast- their home was swarmed in a matter of seconds. The cameras never alerted them, the trespasser alarm never went off. They were slowly   
picked off before they were struck in an ambush.

Three people had died. Ava, one of their college students who had only moved here six months ago. Fajra, one of the daughters of the main line of humans that were born here.   
And Thomas, who sacrificed his life.

And some people were still missing, and or, trapped.

The wendigos had been trapped in their cave, the top of it sliced in a way that caused a rock slide that even the powerful creatures could not escape, and the same thing happened   
to the dragons rook above the house.

The other animals had to be put back in their pens by a terrified Bodaway with a gun to his head.

He still remembered him screaming, “Night penning! Night penning!” in the middle of the day in such a panicked voice that the animals seemed to wonder, ’should I listen?’

The animals that did try and fight back were now in the veterinary quarters, getting their own surgeries and having bullets removed from them.

“Samuel,” Lani called, him looking to her, as she pointed with her pinky finger towards Alfred, who was shifting uncomfortably on his back.

Samuel nodded, gulping as he walked over stiffly to the blonde, his demonic claws out and gripping his palms.

“Sir,” he whispered, “sir, wake up. I’m sorry, but sir, you have to wake up.”

He had to go meet the ones that did this. The ones that now resided in the chief’s office. The ones that now scouted the premises. The ones that stood outside this door to escort   
Alfred up to his own office so he could be interrogated. 

“Sam… shut up I’m tired…”

“Please sir,” he pleaded, Alfred flickering his eyes open when he heard that tone, clutching his head as he sat up before looking around.

His eyes widened and his mouth fell open in a silent gasp.

What had happened? He saw so many injured. Bandages, there was blood on the floor, medicine beside every bedside.

It looked like a field hospital, but it was their own, and it was never meant to have so many patents.

Some people were on the floor, resting on blankets. Some were on inflatable mattresses, some were on moving beds, others on permanent. 

“Come on sir,” Samuel said softly, pulling on him. He noticed he was fully dressed in new clothes, “you have to speak with someone.”

“Samuel, what happened?” he growled, glaring at his old friend as he stilled. There were tears in the back of his eyes.

“We were overrun. I’m sorry sir,” Samuel replied, bowing his head.

Alfred’s eyes widened as he heard it, standing up and almost falling back down as his vision went white before glistening with stars. His head hurt. What had even happened?

No point on dwelling, he needed to hurry.

As he passed all the faces that used to smile and wave and play and hug him as he passed he almost broke down. His own children were among those injured. He didn’t want to   
leave them, yet he had to… he had to see what had happened first hand. 

He tried to sense an animal, someone who could fill him in but drew a blank.

The double doors were pushed open by two men in SWAT, and he took a few steps back as they came beside him, grabbing him under the arms and dragging him away as his   
brain tried to catch up to what was happening to his body.

He heard Bodaway shout, and saw out of the corner of his eye Lani put her head in her hands.

“Let me go!” He yelled, starting to struggle as he was forced out the door. His demon form took hold and he was about to electrocute both of the men into not existing, but   
something was placed around his neck. He coughed as it took hold, digging into his veins as he felt another get placed around his left ankle and yet another get placed around his   
right wrist.

He screamed as pain overcome him, his vision flashing between white, black, and present as it attached itself to him.

He was left a sniffling ball on the floor before he was grabbed again, getting limply dragged away.

He barely realized he was put in a seat, his head feeling woozy as he looked up to see another man behind his desk, looking at him with such… bloodlust it made him sick to his   
stomach.

“I believe you wonder who I am?” the man said, holding up his chin so that he could look him right in the eyes as some other men got handcuffs and trapped him against the chair.

He could hardly breathe, let alone talk.

“Answer me, you worthless mutt!”

“Danny Devito?”

He got slapped across the cheek. He laughed lightly as the man got angrier, backhanding him.

“No!” he yelled, “You will call me Mister, and you are my prisoner!”

“Of what?”

“The US military and SWAT,” he smiled, and Alfred had a fleeting sense.

No. No no no.

He had to wake up. This was all a bad dream. A bad dream where you could feel pain and…

No. No he… he…

He would never see Ivan again. He would never see any of the other nations again. He was stuck. He was trapped in his own home.

“Why is he shaking?” Mister asked the two guards.

“We have reason to believe he is mentally ill.”

“Mental illness isn’t real!” he growled, “Just a pussy like the rest of ‘em. Take him out of here, give him to the scientist so they can run testing. I want to know what he’s capable of   
by the end of the day.”

“Yes sir.” they said, unlocking the handcuffs and dragging him pathetically has he squirmed and choked.  
He was dragged outside to a tent and thrown to the ground, another set of hands grabbing him and pulling him into a chair. He tried to struggle, but something got plugged into the collar around his neck, the bracelet, and the thing around his ankle.

He screamed.

It hurt so bad. It felt like he was being set on fire, or what you would expect it to feel like.

Not to mention he hardly ever felt pain. His body healed to fast. But this, this made his body feel like it was blistering and just…

It hurt so bad he didn’t even know if it was pain anymore.

“Count off lightning like abilities,” one of the scientists whispered, “test for earth!”

It went through like that. The specimen in front of them being able to control every element- ice, mud, electricity, something they could only describe as hellfire, earth, plants,   
wind, gravity, telekinesis, metal, lava and magma, water, an odd ability to shape-shift between three forms, animal-speak, all-tongue, healing- nothing they expected.

He reacted negatively every time they put something metal towards him, which is how they figured out he could bend it.

For some of them they weren’t sure if it was just an extension of a previous element or was new, and they wanted to do more testing, but they had to hurry and finish this before   
the Boss got mad.

Two guards dragged him away to test his physical attributes, although they were unsure if he still had the strength left in him to do so, but they followed.

Two more scientists started helping them test for his physical abilities.  
He was powerful. As soon as he was given the option he fought back like a trapped bull.

He had to be hurt a few times before he figured out he should just go along with it, but he did claw one of the guards up pretty good.

He also got beat with a metal club for his troubles after they tired him out enough that he couldn’t bend it.

They figured out how much energy he had was tied to how much strength he could release and jotted it down.

Next was injury assessment.

A few bullet wounds, cat like wounds and punctures on his back and shoulders, scrapes, bruises, what you would expect.

The thing they didn’t expect was the bite mark, right under his hairline on the back of his neck. It was deep and prominent, yet still the color of his skin.

“Animal?” they would guess, but this was human teeth marks, and a weird place to bite for an animal.

“This is the bite mark of a human male, about the same age as our specimen,” one of the other scientists replied, “maybe a mating mark?”

“With a male?” the others reasoned. All creatures were naturally heterosexual, what about his reproduction? Unless…

“He’s one of them?” one of the guards interjected.

“Yes,” a scientist replied lightly, writing it down on their clipboard.

The guard growled, raising his bat.

The specimen was much too tired to fight back.

He was dragged, beaten and bloody, away to be put up on one of the scout towers that had been built and tied there for everyone to see.

“Mom!” one of the kids screamed, running over. She got hit in the face with the same bat used against… her…

They jotted down that the kids called him mom.

She was an albino, with an odd red streak through her hair and bright pink eyes.

Interesting.

“I request to test this one next,” one of the scientists said, studying her. Besides the albinism (which was a hideous aspect on anyone really) she was quite beautiful.

She tried to run, and both the guards tackled her, beating her until she complied before dragging her with the scientists as they walked back to their makeshift laboratory. 

They noticed that another man, red-brown hair, freckles, and light skin (thank god, they thought almost everyone here was Indian), was trying to climb the scout tower. He was   
beaten by two passing guards.

Noah grunted as they got bored, walking away. It hurt so bad to move. Had one of his bones broken? He didn’t know. At least he would heal.

He was lucky he wasn’t dragged away like Pennsylvania. He felt bad for thinking about it like that, but it was hard not too. He didn’t want to end up like Alfred, especially when he   
just had power over water, minimal healing, and very little super-strength.

Not to mention his other form was still weak. He only got claws, black eyes, night vision, and the ability to jump higher.

It got to the point where he had felt so embarrassed about his powers he just hid them constantly, but the pain had fallen to a dull ache, and he still slept in his demonic form so   
he didn’t explode or something.

He had to get Alfred to the hospital. 

Looking up to his brother, he noticed he wasn’t asleep, just in a pain ridden daze. He was too tired to heal, yet you couldn’t heal when you were asleep.

“Don’t think of going back up there,” a guard ordered, “let him serve as an example.”

“Please sir,” Noah begged, “he’ll bleed out up there. He needs to get stitched.”

“Are you disobeying me?” the guard asked, taking a few steps forwards as Noah took a few meek steps back, lowering his head and chest to show how non-threatening he was.

“We’ve been asked to take him down,” another guard said as Noah’s face lit up with hope, “for questioning.”

Oh. Oh no no no that isn’t good.

Noah got hit by one of their bats again and Alfred got dragged away.

The pain had faded to numbness, Alfred realized, looking up hazelly as he tried to figure out where they were going.

His head fell when he got too tired as he was dragged through the halls. He knew where they were going. The warriors hall. They met an architect and a few historians there,   
Alfred having to sit down on his knees just because he was in too much pain to stand.

“Who is this?” a historian asked, pointing at the main piece of artwork in the back of the room, a whopping twenty-five foot scale painting of his mother. It looked exactly like her.   
Her height, her angry look that she always wore, and her staff with its diamond in it. Her hair was brushed over her shoulder in a braid that went down to her knee, and she wore   
an elegant dress that had been made by the seamstresses of her sister’s husband. High cheekbones, the red-brown skin of the natives.  
They still had the staff. It was locked up safely in one of the secret rooms, and it would hopefully stay that way.

“My mother,” he replied softly, “Winema.”

“A large painting of her?”

“Set to scale, she was tall,” he replied, laughing a little at the historians expression.

“And these men?” she asked, pointing to the seven paintings nearest to her. Hania, her favorite, was beside her on the back wall.

“My fathers.”

“What are their names?” the historian asked as he sat down on his butt, pointing at paintings as he went.

“Powwaw,”

Powwaw was the tallest, standing at fifteen feet. He had bright yellow eyes and black hair that was fizzy and went everywhere. He was the jokester, always the one that let his kids   
play. He was the one that taught them how to trick others, how to do illusions (if they were capable) and how to control light. He looked crazy in his painting, and they probably   
thought he was, just because he was Native.

“Beshkno,”

Beshkno was the leanest, standing at eleven feet. Feathers covered his ears and he had a mohawk of feathers like a cockatoo stemming from his head. His hands were noticeably   
clawed, as well as his feet.

The wings of a bald eagle stemmed from his back, and he had black eyes. He was the laid back one, basically the opposite of Powwaw. He remembered being cuddled in his   
father’s wings and falling asleep to the stories he would tell.

“Apiatan,” 

Apiatan was a warrior at heart. He liked a good fight. Standing at fourteen feet he was the second tallest, with a muscular build that made him look bigger than he actually was. He   
had kind brown eyes and short black hair, with his usual bearskin cloak thrown over one shoulder.

He had sharp, wolf-like canines, and short, curved claws.

“Qaletaqa,”

Qaletaqa was… a little overprotective. Not a helicopter parent, but very… mess with my family I mess with your face. He had long black hair that fell into a braid and doe like   
features. He looked fairly feminine, and was the shortest, at eight feet.

“Matwau,”

Matwau was strict. He had the darkest skin out of all of them, and red-tinted eyes. His hair was long and straight and his face always seemed to be either surprised, confused, or   
angry. He was twelve feet, and built normal. Not too strong, but not too weak.

“Hania,”

Hania was sweet as sugar. He would leave for weeks on end but come back with so many gifts that it was impossible not to forgive him. Although mom loved all of them, she   
loved Hania a little more than the others. He was the one that got into her heart.

He was thirteen feet tall, with a constant smirk on his face and a staff in his left hand. He was built like Apiatan, and had a noticeable scar running along his neck and down his   
chest before ending at his hip from a bear attack. The same bear that Apiatan’s cloak was made out of.

“Sahkonteic.”

Sahkonteic was his biological dad. He had the lightest skin, amber eyes, and long, curly, dark brown hair. He was originally a tribe of Israel, travelling across Asia and meeting up   
with his mother, passing over with her and his little group of humans who followed him as a shepherd sent by their god.

He was twelve feet tall, and was kind. He never lied once in his life, and always would go out of his way to be there for you. 

When they were young, and their parents had to go hunting for weeks on end, Sahkonteic was the one who always volunteered to stay behind.

He was more afraid of killing than dying. Alfred wished he got that trait.

“And this woman?” the historian asked, pointing to the person to Winema’s left.

“Powaqa, my aunt.”

She looked like Winema, besides being three feet shorter and having short hair. She had bright brown eyes, and burns on her cheeks and shoulders from sitting on mountains in   
direct sunlight so much.

She liked tobacco.

That was all he could describe her as.

“What about all these people?” the historian asked, motioning around, “Your siblings?”

“Yes.”

Atlatonin (Aztec), Quenti (Inca), Kaya, Lakota, Dakota, Yankton, Aloha (Imperial Hawaii), Aapo (Maya), and many more all stood around the surrounding walls, their heads high.

“What is this room?”

“It’s where we respect our fallen family,” he said, glaring at someone as they went to touch a bowl full of gold coins before they got the idea and backed off.

“Where are they buried?”

“Around. Appalachians to the Rockies to Alaska.”

“What about humans?”

“They are buried in the ground and have a tree planted over them.”

“So that forest…”

“Has people buried under it.”

The historian looked scared and sick.

“I’m done with him, take him away, get someone to come and clean all this blood up.”

“As you wish,” the guards replied, dragging him away.

All the way back to Samuel, who almost had a heart attack looking at him.

For some reason they realized this wasn’t the worst it could be.


	5. Chapter 5

He shot of the bed, covered in a cold sweat before launching to his phone.

Alfred hadn’t messaged him last night (morning for him he guessed) and he knew something was wrong. Not to mention his body ached, and he felt unnaturally scared.

No new messages.

Standing, he changed and left the room, sighing as he so. He had this terrible feeling that something back happened but couldn’t figure out what.

He sat down on the couch, holding his head in his hands.

Looking up, he realized that there was something on his coffee table. Lampushka meowed, rubbing up against his leg before jumping up, sniffing the thing before running away.

It was a box with a letter strapped to the top.

How was this in his house?

Gently picking it up, he took the letter off, and opening it.

Dear Ivan Zimavich Braginski, personification of Russia,

It knew his name. That wasn’t creepy.

I have come to you to request help. Our home was overtaken, and our family murdered, tortured, and tested on because of something that happened almost forty years ago.

Specifically, your lover.

He felt his heart stop.

You know him as Alfred Jones, we know him as Dyami. He is the chief of our clan, and while he was away on business in Paris we were ambushed. I can sense that now he is being   
tortured.

By now there are around seven hundred men inhabiting our home that we can do nothing about, and only more along the way. If we die, the world stops functioning. People stop   
living, the winter and summer never come, ovens can’t be lit, storms have no rain and no lightning, and the earth will start to fold in on itself more than it already is.

The way to our home has been encrypted into this message from Rulyn Torina, our second in command.

-Davie Jones, Messenger of the Winema (Thunderbird) Clan.

P.S. you might want to contact your fellow nations to help.

Another letter was behind it, as well as a few polaroids. Alfred with two other men, one with blonde hair and red eyes and the other with brown hair and freckles.

Another with a beautiful woman he could only describe as a fairy, with monarch butterfly wings stemming from her back.

A native man with Alfred sitting on his shoulder. But this was no normal man. He brushed three times Alfred’s height.

The man Apollo from the party, with another man carrying Hermes scepter.

He had to do a double take on the fourth.

A large, fluffy, three headed dragon with the heads of dogs, the wings of birds, and two tails.

That was a zmay, although they were always pictured more… scaley… instead of fluffy.

Rulyn and Bodaway with Alfred, but this wasn’t normal Alfred and this wasn’t normal Rulyn.

Alfred looked like he did in his nightmare, and Rulyn had wolf ears, yellow eyes, and darker hair, not to mention fangs and claws.

These were polaroid… they weren’t photoshopped.

He had to call an immediate meeting.

He emailed Germany as fast as he could with how shaky he was. Why would Alfred have lied to him? He was… he was a nightmare, but he knew what was inside. He wasn’t a   
monster.

And about this empire he had built out of his family. He was left to believe that England was his father while Alfred actually had more siblings than anybody wanted?

Germany scheduled it for 6pm. He looked at the clock and noticed it was eight in the morning, and he rushed to get to the meeting hall in Moscow, bringing the box with him.

He was so panicked, just trying not to combust with all the emotions getting thrown at him. There were at least twenty more polaroids, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at   
him. He found a remote with the note: ‘Aim at Lithuania, Belarus, and Romano, press button.’ and categorized that under weird, putting it to the side. He found a mechanical stick   
with a screen that did nothing, the code ‘59325’ in it, a pair of car keys, an address, a steel knife with an amethyst in the blade inscribed with the latin phrase ‘See what your   
enemies shall do’ and a black slab inscribed with ‘blush of smoke, let me see you’. There was also a wand that looked like it came straight out of Harry Potter, a lot of assorted feathers in a small jar, another jar full of scales, a crystal wrapped in cloth labeled ‘Break to summon a snake of Medusa’, a harp string, a kazoo, a transparent bandana that was labeled ‘speak with the creatures’ and a heavy stone fan engraved with flames.

So, a lot of probably magical stuff that he had no idea what to do with. Not to mention the booklet at the bottom he didn’t want to open.

He ended up leaving to get lunch, coming back to see the letter from ‘Davie’ open on the table and China and Japan staring at the fan.

“Hello,” he greeted lightly as both the Asian nations jumped, passing a glance to each other before greeting him.

“Russia~aru, what is this?” China said, motioning over the table at the assortment of items.

“It was in the box with the letter.”

“And this stuff belongs to America-kun?” Japan asked, looking over it all.

“From what I can tell,” he sighed, “yes.”

“You had no idea, did you?” China asked as Japan reached out to touch the fan before pulling back.

“No,” Ivan replied, “I didn’t know anything.”

The betrayal had sunk in when he was eating, the knowledge that Alfred had lied to him so much because he didn’t trust him hurt him so much more than any physical pain.

“Russia!” England said, bursting open the door, “What do you think you’re doing! It has barely been a day since the last meeting and you called another-”

He stopped, seeming to sense something in the air before walking over to the pile of stuff on the table. As soon as his shock overcame him he shot over to the note, reading it   
aloud to himself before staring at it in bewilderment, looking over the polaroids before setting the note down and sitting down.

“We need all the G20 here. This is an important matter,” England said, shaking his head as if he didn’t believe it himself.

“Russia-san,” Japan called to him, “I believe you need to summon Belarus-sama as well. She is listed on this with Lithuania and Romano as knowing something.”

He nodded, walking away as he pulled out his phone. His sister agreed to come with no propting.   
It was only so long before more people arrived, all going through separate reactions. Mexico and Canada were terrified when they saw the picture of Alfred looking all… demon, 

and he was pretty sure Canada started crying.

Unlike they previously thought, Romano, Lithuania, and Belarus knew nothing, although all three looked like they got head pains when they saw the pictures.

Nobody knew what to do about this.

Everyone was confused.

“Can I speak?” Finland said, looking to Germany.

“Go,”

“When Vinland was still around, there was reason to believe they had been separately personified. One night though, something went wrong. I was following a trail of large human   
footsteps in the woods and I found a procession of giants, carrying a tray I suppose. I was so shocked I was frozen in place.” he shook his head, “I remember one of them looked   
at me. It was small, sitting on one of the larger ones shoulders, and I remember it looked at me. It’s eyes glowed so brightly that I could even see them at night before it turned   
away.”

“What’s your point?” Denmark asked.

“I think it was America, or… er… Dyami.”

There was silence, a few passing glances.

“Okay…” Germany muttered, “does anyone know what these magical… artifacts… are?”

“The fan has the power of fire,” China and Japan both said at the same time.

“I don’t think this is magical,” Estonia said, holding up the useless stick, “I think it’s electronic.”

“The harp string is a harp string of Apollo, I think,” Greece said, interested enough to not fall asleep, “and the Medusa’s snake thing probably summons a snake that turns people   
to stone with its gaze.”

“The wand, feathers, and scales are for people not born magical to do true elemental magic instead of dark,” England nodded, “from what I can tell, lots of lightning bird and   
phoenix feathers. Dragon scales too.”

“I think you wrap the bandana around your mouth and then you can talk to animals,” Poland said, “it will basically disappear after you put it on.”

“I agree with Poland,” India nodded.

“I think the kazoo makes your voice siren-like, if what I understand about kazoo’s is true,” Turkey said, about to hold it up to his mouth before Greece smacked it out, stealing it   
so Turkey couldn’t use it.

“What about this remote?” Germany asked, reading the label on it. Most of the nations shrugged, so he aimed it at Romano and pressed the one button on it.

The nation immediately slumped, holding his head while Italy and a few other nations screamed.

“Wonderful,” Switzerland let out a breath, “you’ve killed him.”

“Mi vino (My wine)?” Spain whispered, putting a hand on his shoulder before Romano slapped it away.

“I know every person in that goddamn house.” he said standing up, “I know it all.”

“Okay, where’s the house?”

“I… we were teleported. Alfred didn’t want anyone to find out the location.” he said, shaking his head.

Without a second thought Germany used it on Lithuania and Belarus.

Russia was about to break him for using it on his sister and one of his closest friends, but held himself back, forcing himself to stay in his seat. He could sense that something   
wasn’t right. That Alfred was in trouble and he couldn’t do anything about it.

“Lithuania, Belarus, where is the house?”

“We were teleported,” Lithuania croaked as Belarus started to cough.

“Are you telling the truth?”

“Yes,” Belarus replied.

“We have to solve the riddles,” Brazil interjected, “America is America, he wouldn’t make it that easy.”

A few of the nations wondered, why are we doing this? What do I get out of it? Besides the prospect that Alfred was part of another line of personifications and the threat of all   
their people dying, many couldn’t figure out what was pulling them to want to help.

Some blamed it on how panicky Russia had been acting. Some were curious. Some wanted to know what the fuck was going on.

“Well, in our rights it states that we protect our own,” Germany said, standing, “this is against that right, and for that, these assailants shall suffer. Who’s with me? I’m sure many   
of us know that our America is not the America we fear.”

“I agree, America-kun is one of us.”

“There is no point in denying it~aru. We don’t leave one of our own behind.”

Everyone in the room gave their approval. Those that didn’t, left. Saudi Arabia, Argentina, Brazil, Indonesia, South Africa. Many were surprised that Switzerland stayed, brandishing   
his gun.

“Russia?” Germany asked, “How will you proceed?”

“I will kill every last one that harms him,” Russia replied, “that is what lovers do.”

The Baltics and Poland nodded. Everyone had noticed he was calmer now that America was with him, but now that America wasn’t… well, what’d you expect. 

“Hungary, what’s the first riddle?” Germany asked, looking to her as she picked up the old letter, opening it slowly.

“I am warm and coastal, that much is true, but my twin is opposite, covered in frozen dew.”

“Oh wow, time to search up what cold town in one of our countries has a coastal counterpart in America.” Denmark said, pulling out his laptop.

They came back fruitless, all ending up in one of Moscow’s hotels for the night so they could continue tomorrow with more sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

He drank his coffee, sitting up in bed as the early morning rose. The hospital was as full as it had been, only four people being moved out, and three being moved in.

He still felt horrible that Pennsylvania and Columbia had to go through the same tests he did, all while he did nothing to stop it. He didn’t know, sure, but it still hurt.

He was going back to his own bed today, just not right now.

Apparently his femur and two of his ribs were broken, so he was on bed rest for the day while they healed.

He heard yelling and wanted to stand, but Samuel waved him off, walking towards the door and reaching for the handle before it burst open, two guards holding an unconscious   
Davie and one holding a tazer to his back in case he woke up.

He noticed that Davie’s flight feathers were cut and bleeding, as well as some of his primaries, the blood dripping down his white feathers...so… caressingly.

“He got away, came back to try and host a rescue mission,” one of the guards grumbled, “heal him. The scientists want him for later.”

Samuel nodded weakly, picking up the boy bridal style as Kansas went and laid out a cloth on the ground.

“Might as well put him here,” Alfred said, “I’m not staying.”

“Alfred your-”

Samuel was cut off as Alfred waved his finger, a wheelchair unfolding beside him. He hopped up on the uninjured leg and sat down, finishing his coffee.

Kansas laughed at her mother’s antics, taking the sheets off and throwing them into washing as Samuel got out his surgery table, leaving to go into the back room, a few of the   
nurses following him.

After he was done he tossed it into the dishwasher, wheeling himself out of there and to the elevator, making sure to stay out of the way of the patrols, some of which laughed at   
him.

He kinda wanted to break their legs, but whatever was on his neck would probably go ballistic and he needed to heal.

As soon as he was at the top floor, he went to his room, passing his office along the way. ‘Mister’ was probably in there, and he wasn’t going to be mocked.

Why be mocked?

Pushing himself up onto his bed, he pulled himself in a way both of his legs were up and watched his claws glisten in the light, before making designs on his skin.

He heard the door creak open and hid his arm.

“Oh, hi Lani,” he said, hiding his bloody hand too.

“Brought a friend,” she replied, holding up a bottle of 60%, “and Bodaway too, I guess.”

“Hey!” he exclaimed softly, shutting the door behind him as the two sat down. It was a king size, so four people could fit comfortably laying down unlike a queen.

Bodaway set three cups on the bedsheet, and Alfred took one, Lani pouring him a shot.

“I wish this was a bad dream.” he said, holding up his cup before downing it as the other two poured their own.

“I wish nobody had died.” a drink.

“I wish we were left alone.” another.

“I wish-” and another and another and another.

It was only so long before Alfred broke down into drunken mumbling, holding his head as he cried out for any god, quietly as he could with such fear in his voice it made Lani and   
Bodaway’s hair stand on end.

Eventually he ended up crying for Ivan. Wanting him near. He curled up in a ball and clutched his neck and it hurt so badly. He could feel it. Ivan’s fear. Why was Ivan afraid? Was   
he okay?

Lani and Bodaway shared a glance and left him be. He drank almost twice as much as they did, and the only thing that happened was Bodaway stumbling a bit before following the   
Hawaiian out.

“My baby,” Alfred muttered, “where are you? Can you feel me?”

Ivan had so many emotions it was hard to decipher. He felt some form of betrayal, he was afraid, he was confused, and he was trying to be calm.

It might have been selfish, but Alfred searched for that little bit of love Ivan might have left for him.

It comforted him.

He was reminded of their drunk, giggly kisses and the mornings where Ivan would just hold him and he felt safe. He felt so safe, and so… useless. He was never able to do   
anything for Ivan. Ivan always wanted him to help himself but when you have a broken mind it's hard to not focus on the things that aren’t broken.

He wanted to be able to make Ivan as happy as Ivan made him.

He wanted his phone. He wanted to tell him everything was alright, that he could stop worrying, that he was safe and that Ivan didn’t need to do anything else but just be there.

Even if it was a lie, he just wanted Ivan to be happy. Ivan could stay ignorant, he could be happy even though Alfred wasn’t. He had the power to make others happy even if he   
wasn’t.

“Mom,” Delaware said softly, smelling the booze in the air and taking a step back. This was important, hopefully his mom wasn’t too drunk to not be able to process it.

“Yes my baby Del?” he replied, looking over. His eyes were still alert, Delaware noted.

“Davie got a message out, that’s why he got his feathers clipped,” Delaware said, smiling, “dad, god that’s weird to say, is gonna save us.”

Alfred felt his last emotion leave him.

What if they came here and they found out he was a monster and a horrible creature and hid all his problems and was this hyper-powerful deity instead of a-

“Delaware, go make sure your siblings stay safe,” he said, leaning back onto the pillows, “I don’t want any more getting tortured. You’re in charge of them.”

“Yes mom,” he said, walking over and kissed him on the cheek, Alfred pulling his back to kiss him on the nose.

“Go, shoo, leave me to my mind,”

“Okay mom,” Delaware replied, walking almost completely out the door, “don’t get too drunk, please.”

‘We need you in your right mind right now,’ Alfred added, sparing a glance to the bottle at his right.

“Will do,” Alfred replied, Hero slipping in as Delaware went out.

‘Master, they’re everywhere,’ Hero cried, ‘and I know these kits are coming in a month.’

“I know darling,” he sighed, looking at the bottle and deciding not to grab it, “hopefully we’ll be out of this situation by then.”

“Hero, please explain to me what happened during the attack,” he asked, looking to his cat.

‘It was sudden. The main attack went from the mountain down, isolated the exits, and had men surrounding the area. Anyone who tried to run or fight was shot, anyone who did   
as they asked as spared. Many people disappeared before it, but no one noticed. There were a few dynamite rumbles from when they trapped the dragons and the wendigos, but   
people just thought it was a tremor. I remember Skexi, Ginger, and Shad saw it as it was happening and started directing animals away, but a few were still hurt. It was scary, I   
ended up hiding in a cage with one of the shedding rattlesnakes while a dog patrolled outside to make sure we stayed safe.’

“What dog?”

‘Hershey, Samuel’s pet,’

Hershey was a large female American Water Spaniel that they had gotten decades ago as a birthday gift for Samuel. She was smart and well trained, so Alfred wasn’t surprised that   
she knew to defend the pregnant cat and the blue snake.

“Did you thank her?”

‘Of course, I have manners.’

“Good.”

He helped Hero onto his bed and she fell asleep, curled up at his side.

That bottle was getting so much more tempting as each second passed. No. His children needed him to be awake. His family needed him to be awake. He couldn’t drown himself   
just because something was bad.

He nitpicked his way through Ivan’s mind. He was angry, oh so angry. He didn’t feel betrayed as much as he felt like he couldn’t be trusted, and for some reason he had this sense   
of family.

For some reason that blossom of love had become a flower without him even realizing it.

“I love you,” he said to himself, knowing it feel on deaf ears but just wishing that Ivan could hear it.

He wanted him to hear it.

He wanted to be true and love him with all his heart and soul and be whole again and to be safe and secure and to be alive… again. All he wanted was to be alive again, was that   
so much to ask?

He didn’t want to be beaten, looked down on, spit at, mocked. He just wanted to be a person in other people’s eyes.

“Thank you, for still loving me.”

Davie must have told him everything. He knew now that he was a big fat liar (emphasis on fat) and for some stupid reason the dork still loved him.

“I’m sorry I lied.”

He really was sorry. He didn’t know what else to do. He just wanted to be safe inside his walls but Ivan knocked them down with ease and Alfred couldn’t do anything about it but   
watch as they were built back up with him inside it.

“I miss you.”

He wanted Ivan. He wanted Ivan to kiss him and snuggle him and tell him it was a bad dream.

“I’ll stay alive for you.”

He had very little reason to still be around. Rulyn could take over the clan and lead it twice as good as him and all his kids didn’t need him anymore. He’d be surprised if his   
siblings weren’t tired of seeing him, and he didn’t know if anyone else in the family really cared…

He had never had a sense that nobody loved him until he heard it from the other nations. Never directly, just little actions. He was always stuck in his own head, overanalyzing   
everything. It got to the point where he didn’t know how to not overanalyze.

That bottle got a little more tempting, and he tossed it into the garbage bin.

“Ten points to the useless guy sitting in his bed with a broken leg.” he muttered to himself, leaning back into the pillow and trying to go to sleep.

As he was dozing, he felt this weird sense-

Oh shit. His walls were down. Why was Ivan such an idiot.

Time to help his little idiot, then go to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

“Oh my god!” Australia exclaimed, “Why the fuck are there 21 Moscow’s in America!”

“Are there any coastal?” England asked, typing on his own computer.

“The one in Rhode Island…” he muttered, “nevermind it’s inland. Fuck!”

“Try St. Petersburg,” Switzerland said, looking through the booklet that was in the box.

“It’s in Florida! This took way too long!” Denmark yelled.

“Finally! The awesome me is getting tired of staring at this stupid computer!”

“We can’t leave yet, we have to wait for Norway and Iceland,” Finland said, “these artifacts are useless if we don’t know how to use them.”

“I agree, we wait,” Germany said, Poland sighing and putting his feet up on the table. Many just went around doing business and unimportant paperwork. The three Nordics that   
were around were talking with Estonia. Latvia was talking with Lithuania, Belarus, and Poland, Romano was scribbling something down.

Austria, Hungary, Czechia, Slovakia, South Korea, and India had all left, being called back to their nations by their leaders.

“This will be dangerous~aru,” China said, “we have no weapons.”

“Russia?”

“I have enough,” he nodded, “follow.”

He stood, walking out of the meeting hall, the other nations following behind him timidly. He opened something that looked like a janitor's closet but was in fact coated with   
weapons on every wall.

Lots of AK-47’s and grenades.

Finland slipped in, going for one of the sniper rifles on the wall and grabbing an assortment of bombs.

Many nations went through the weapon stock, some confused as to why he had it and others going ‘it’s Russia this isn’t surprising’.

“I wondered where you went,” Norway said, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. He didn’t look happy. Iceland followed behind him as he walked over to Germany.

“Norway, you know true elemental magic correct?” Germany asked, slipping a pistol into his bag.

“I know of it,” Norway shrugged, “and I know how to do it with the proper supplies.”

“Follow me,” Germany said, Iceland and Norway following as well as a few nations who were done with the weapon extravaganza.

Russia watched as Norway went through the jars, a surprised look on his face as he did so before slipping them in his pocket with the wand. He went through the items and   
somehow got each to work (the fan almost burned the place down). They got put back in the box as the nations got ready to leave. Backpacks and bags thrown over their backs,   
they walked to the airport, which wasn’t too far away.

There weren't any flights from Moscow to St. Petersburg in Florida.

They ended up standing in a group, trying to figure out what the fuck they were supposed to be doing before a human walked over. A few were worried that they were gonna get   
told to leave, but Russia recognized him.

“Here,” Russel whispered, handing him a set of keys, “solar powered, has enough room. It looks like a mini version of a passenger plane.”

“Where are you going?” Ivan asked, studying the keys in his hand.

“Away,” Russel replied, running off into the crowd.

“Who… was that?” Mexico asked, his eyes trying to follow where Russel had gone but failing.

“Russel, I met him through Alfred,”

“We have to catch him! He probably knows what’s going on,” France said, “Lord knows we have no idea.”

“The awesome me volunteers!” Prussia exclaimed, Germany holding him back from running off.

“No, it’s unfair to the lad,” England said, “he’s probably in just as much trouble with the people who overtook America’s home as America.”

“So he’s going to Russia to escape?” Belgium asked, “That seems a little odd.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Germany replied, “he’s disappeared by now.”

“Let’s go,” Belarus ushered, “it will only be so long before Al-America is getting more injured than he can handle. And we also have the threat of our people dying? Who knows let’s   
go.”

“Agreed,” Poland said, walking with her towards the commercial hangers.

“I don’t think…” Belgium muttered, “I don’t think this is my job.”

“Then leave,” Switzerland said, following the two, Lichtenstein following behind him.

“C’mon Bel,” Netherlands said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and leading her to the next flight to western europe.

Portugal seemed to agree, following behind them.

Their group was left at: Finland, Sweden, Denmark, Norway, Iceland, Germany, Prussia, Poland, Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia, Belarus, France, England, Australia, Romano, Italy, Spain,   
Greece, Turkey, Switzerland, Lichtenstein, China, Japan, Mexico, Canada, and Russia. Twenty-seven nations out of two hundred.

It took a long time before they actually found the plane. 

It was small, maybe holding thirty people plus the pilot hold. The plane itself was easy to manage- everything was labelled and the only thing keeping it from being stolen by   
some random nobody was the keys in Russia’s pocket.

Poland and Lithuania piloted the plane while the others sat back. There wasn’t anything anybody could really do besides wait.

Italy started playing with a few buttons near the back of the plane even after Germany told him off.

“Doitsu~ what if it’s some secret magical thing that America keeps, ve~” 

“That’s exactly why you shouldn’t touch it! What if it is magical and you make it explode?!”

“Mon ami Germany, it is only a keyboard with a screen,” France said, leaning back on his seat.

“Wait!” Canada said suddenly, making a few nations jump, “It is a keyboard!”

“Yes?” France replied, “So?”

“Italy, try up up down down left right left right b a then enter.”

“Hm?” Italy said, typing the code, and clicking enter. He got into the plane's system with ease. What a weird password.

“What is that?” Estonia asked, looking past Canada.

“Konami code,” Canada chucked, “it was a cheat code in Gradius forty years ago.”

“Okay, so Italy got into the plane's computer, now what?” Germany asked, leaning back and closing his eyes.

Estonia bent down as Italy scooted away, clicking on something.

“I think… I think it’s connected to America’s phone,” Estonia said.

“Check it!”

“Go through it all, see what else he’s hiding from us!”

“Shut up,” Germany yelled, as Russia looked up from where he was sitting, “where’s your proof.”

“Someone is on his phone. I can see them moving around, looking at pictures. I don’t think it’s America.”

Norway and England walked over, Romano and Spain following behind them.

“That’s… that’s Jolon,” Romano said, pointing at a man with extremely dark skin and black eyes and hair wearing something that could be compared to a black version of a Greek   
toga.

“What about the other one?” England asked, pointing at the Native man with long, ponytailed hair and white paint across his chest and arms.

“Gad, the Navajo Tribe,”

“Then who’s Jolon?”

“Death Valley,” Romano replied, holding his head.

A few of the nations nodded, some stayed silent and still.

The picture changed and a few nations gasped.

“Russia get over here! THERE’S A BABY YOU BUT FEMALE!”

“What?” Russia replied, walking over with his arms crossed before he saw the photo and gasped.

There was a photo of him, but a girl. She had baby blue eyes and her hair was a little lighter than his, but she most definitely looked a lot like him. But she also had aspects of   
Alfred. Specifically a few light blue stripes running over her face. He wasn’t sure if she was wearing gloves or if her hands were naturally black.

“Who is that?” he asked, looking at Romano.

“Alaska,”

“Wait, the states are-” Spain started, “nevermind. Stupid question.”

“All of them are,” Romano sighed, “I recall they have a tendency to be annoying.”

“I second that,” Belarus interjected, scribbling in her notebook.

“Is that why he was always late?” China said, all of them besides Romano taking in a breath at the full family photo. Romano knew those were only the children. 

“Ya,” the Italian nodded.

“He has so many pretty bella’s~!”

“I think a few of them would kill you for saying that.”

It went on from there.

Ivan didn’t join the conversation, instead feeling a stabbing sensation in his wrist that he couldn’t help but itch. He didn’t want to, but it started to hurt so badly for no reason that   
he had to.

He started feeling buzzed and sat down, listening to the conversation but not being able to join. A few people asked if he was okay, and after an hour the feeling faded.

He felt a sensation of someone wiggling their way into his soul and calmed himself. He knew it, it was the feeling he got just after Alfred woke up. So he either just woke up now,   
or he knew what he was doing and there was an actual demon in his soul.

He felt breath against his ear, but nobody was near him.

“My baby,” Alfred’s voice whispered, oh so softly, “where are you? Can you feel me?”

He wanted to say yes, but then he would probably be counted as crazy. He felt a sense of euphoria and leaned back, his eyes getting droopy. No one minded. He probably didn’t   
sleep last night, so they left him be. 

As long as he wasn’t getting angry and hurting anyone.

For some reason, he felt angry when that sense went away. It was calming. He finally felt like Alfred was okay and now- what if he was getting hurt? He couldn’t stand the thought.

If only Alfred trusted him, then he’d know where the house was and they wouldn’t have to go on a wild goose chase!

But Alfred had family, and if Alfred felt the same way after all this then he’d have a family. He’d get to meet the girl that looked so much like him. All his siblings who were taller   
than him and scarier than him and could probably kill him-

Nevermind on the siblings, he just wanted to know his kids. The thought of being brutally mauled by an angry giant was not a fun thought in the slightest.

He felt that sense return and calmed back down, the other nations near him watching his demeanor carefully in case he went ‘I’m gonna kill you all’ on them or something like   
that.

He felt the breath on his ear again.

“I love you,” it whispered as his heart swelled, him closing his eyes. He felt a pang of love come into his senses. He felt like he could sense Alfred’s thoughts- the will to be alive   
and just alive.

“Thank you, for still loving me.”

Thank him for loving him? Nonsense. Unneeded. His darling might be a dumbass, but he was still his darling.

“I’m sorry I lied.”

He didn’t need to be sorry, he was trying to protect his home. He had figured it out last night- he could be told, then his boss, then it somehow gets out and then everyone   
knows.

“I miss you.”

‘I miss you too, dorogoy.’ he thought to himself, feeling a pang of Alfred’s loneliness and fear come through and felt a sense of protectiveness flow through him. He wished Alfred   
could sense him like he could Alfred, but he figured it probably didn’t work that way.

“I’ll stay alive for you.”

‘You better,’ Ivan thought in response. The feeling faded and dulled, and he felt a pull to his spirit as Alfred pulled himself back.

He put his head in his hands and the other nations ignored him. He just wanted his lover. He was fine.

He tried to sense Alfred, and he had no idea how. He tried to think of him- of anything that reminded him of him. Nothing worked.

Thinking back, he randomly thought of that bite that resided on Alfred’s neck.

He felt so much fear, anger, and anxiety flow through him. It only lasted a few seconds before he managed to stop it but it was so much it made him start to shake.

“Russia?” France asked, placing a hand on his shoulder as he raised it. It was noticeably shaking.

“Oh my god! Did the American government poison you?!” he heard someone yell.

If this was a panic attack… he never wanted Alfred to have one again. He was shaking like a leaf and he couldn’t stop. It started to hurt to breathe and it was all getting too loud.   
The engine, everything.

“Go through your thoughts,” he heard Alfred’s voice say. Nobody else did, so he assumed that only he could hear him, “separate them from mine.”

A few seconds after doing that, the shaking stopped.

“Were you possessed?” He heard Italy ask.

“No.”

“Then what happened?” Prussia said, raising an eyebrow, “Were you actually poisoned?”

“No.”

“Then what was it?” England asked, crossing his arms. That was the weirdest thing he’d seen someone do and he used to live with America.

“Doesn’t matter.”

They left it at that, continuing to watch whatever the man looking through Alfred’s phone was watching.

Eventually the phone was turned off and the group groaned. A few went to sleep, and Germany and Prussia tagged in as pilots.

Estonia stared at the removed screen before toggling off the shared screen and going to the camera. Like he thought, he saw what Alfred’s phone was seeing.

Currently, blackness, but after a few minutes it was grabbed and carried away by someone. He managed to catch little glimpses of the house. Seemed to be white and had weird   
things on the walls that he couldn’t describe. Lots of doors. It seemed to be a big house too, but that wasn’t so surprising with the literal town they had living there. The children   
by themselves were a town.

The phone got tossed up in the air and the person caught it, doing it a few times as Estonia looked away to avoid motion sickness. 

By the time he stopped they had gone downstairs, and then outside, where they went into a tent and put it in a bucket.

Well, fuck. There goes that.

He ended up falling asleep last.

By morning they were in Florida, and landed at the St. Petersburg airport.

Now where the fuck were they supposed to go?

“We agree, split in groups of three,” Prussia said, the nations nodding, “good, we use these walkie-talkies I stole from a box in the cabin.”

“Fun,” Australia said, snatching one, “I call mom and dad.”

“I am nobody's mom!” England exclaimed.

“Yet you automatically knew you were the mother~” France said, smirking.

“I will punch you.”

“Go,” Germany ordered, “you’re already getting on my nerves.”

Italy, Romano, and Spain. Greece, Turkey, and China. Mexico, Canada, and Japan. Norway, Denmark, and Iceland. Finland, Estonia, and Sweden. Latvia, Lithuania, and Belarus.   
Germany, Prussia, and Poland. 

Russia had no idea why Switzerland and Liechtenstein agreed to come with him.

Switzerland slipped the walkie-talkie onto his belt as they walked downtown, the generously labelled ‘bad part of town’. Apparently they were the ones strong enough to deal with   
it.

He walked a few steps behind them, passing people with fake smiles plastered onto their faces and fear in their steps. Everyone was running around like they were running out of   
time.

There was a noticeable change when they got to the bad side of town. It wasn’t at first, it slowly descended into shit, but suddenly you just realized that this didn’t look like the   
place you were just at.

He spotted someone in the alleyway smoking pot and wondered just how many of these people had guns.

“Do you have any clue what we might be looking for?” Switzerland asked suddenly, “Any friends of his you see?”

“No,” Russia shook his head, around to the side of the road. As he passed the next alley he saw a symbol spray painted on the back wall and stopped, looking at it. Where did he   
recognize it?

It was the earth, but with the bottom half cut off and dripping.

It was the symbol on that bar's door. Middle Earth.

“I have an idea.”

“Then let’s go,” Switzerland said, looking into the alley, “Licht, stay beside me.”

“Okay brother,” she replied, nodding and stepping right next to him. Russia went in first, all the way next to the symbol. It smelled bad, and that was hard to ignore, but he   
noticed something. Right over where America was, there was a completely filled in brick.

He tapped it and figured out it was loose.

He pulled it out.

On the back was their second clue, a beat up envelope containing the next clue. He pulled it off and dropped the brick as Lichtenstein took a picture of the symbol, putting it on   
the group chat they’d established.

“Psst, use the walkie-talkies, they’re cooler,” Prussia’s voice filtered through.

Switzerland clicked the button and replied: “America could be half-dead and you are worried about being cool?” `

Prussia didn’t respond as they started walking back to the airport, meeting up with England’s group and China’s group as they went.

It took a good half hour before everyone was back, and they agreed to open the letter on the plane.

“Sink me further into hell.”

“What does that mean?” Denmark said, “Now do we have to go to some elaborate Satanic ritual to try and get into Hell?”

“No, they wouldn’t expect that,” Norway replied, “only those with demonic blood and the dead can get into Hell.”

“Hell, Norway, perhaps,” Iceland interjected.

“Sink.” Estonia said, “Sink me further. It’s southern.”

“Are there southern cities named Hell?” France asked, before looking to England, “you would know.”

“Not that I can think of,” England shrugged.

“Well,” Germany sighed, “let’s get to work.”


	8. Chapter 8

“Wake up!” he heard a guard yell from outside as he shot off the bed, “You have fifteen minutes!”

He didn’t respond, taking a shower and washing his head for seven, before taking two minutes to brush his teeth and hair, and put deodorant on, taking three minutes to change   
his clothes before sitting and waiting for his mind to catch up. He had no idea what was gonna happen today, but at least his leg was healed.

He noticed that the wheelchair wasn’t near his bedside and hoped it got brought to the hospital instead of being used on a skank-

“Outside, now!”

He stood up, walking out the door. Two guards stood there in their armor, and he had no idea how they were up this early in such heavy metal.

“The boss wants to have a word.”

“Okay,” Alfred replied, “is he awake or am I gonna have to wait?”

“Don’t talk back to me like that!” the guard yelled, smacking him in the head with his bat. It wasn’t hard, just a little disorienting.

“Follow, demon,” the other guard growled, walking away. Alfred shoved his hands in his pockets and followed behind him, feeling the gazes of the other guards against his back. It   
made his skin prick and his head bow. He was already humiliated, he understood that, but this was over the top.

To make himself feel better he dug his claws into his palms.

He was led to his office and sat down on the seat before Mister walked in, sitting down in his chair.

“So, you have both a demonic mark of a lover and the text messages to prove so-”

“You went through my text messages?” 

He got smacked on the head for talking.

“Yes, because you are my prisoner and I can do whatever I want with you,” Mister said, standing up and getting a little into his personal space.

“So, what do you want?”

He got smacked again.

“You are unnatural, a shun of our community,” Mister growled, “a homosexual.”

“If you emphasize homo sex any more I’d think you’d be gay too.”

He got smacked twice. This was getting old. Specifically them, he didn’t age.

“So, in a month is the next scheduled conversion camp start-up!” Mister exclaimed happily, “You’ll be fixed!”

No.

No. This is what he was afraid of. The electrical chairs, the circle time, the fucking bible studies.

“And, forget whatever religion you worship, you’re roman catholic now!”

“I can’t be roman catholic,” Alfred replied, “crucifixes make me pissy. Don’t want me killing all your guards now, do you?”

“Then atheist.”

“Wow, the religion I already was.”

“Shut up, you mongrel,” he said, before pointing at the two guards, “please, hit him again.”

He let out a quick ouch as he was smacked this time.

The more he was hit, the more energy he had to use to heal. He could also use that energy to say… shock them all with lightning, but he’d probably be knocked out as soon as he   
started to charge up.

“Go on your way, I’m already tired of you,” Mister growled, standing up as Alfred did, walking to the door, “oh, and by the way, I would check the hospital~”

This won’t be good.

To say he ran would have been an understatement. He bolted to the hospital, all the way from floor seven to floor one.

When he got there, it was messy.

Davie was unconscious in a bed, Coahoma and Maikoh were gone but Tala was still there, Maralah was gone, Jolon, Chusi, Harkahome, and Sami were gone.

But the amount of his children that had taken up the space.

Guam had his head wrapped in a bandage, Alaska and Hawaii were… mummies, York’s entire arm was covered in bandages, Oklahoma was pretty thoroughly wrapped around the   
middle, as was Kansas. Washington looked like he got a rock thrown at his head, not to mention the ones that had been stabbed were all still here besides Kentucky.

Why did Indiana look like she got her head beaten with a pipe.

“Mom,” she said weakly, “I found out we weren't allowed in the garage or the rook. The dragons have to come down here to eat now or something I don’t know…”

“Go to sleep so you can heal tomorrow,” he whispered, brushing her hair off her face before walking over to her twin, Illinois.

He looked tired, and smelled sick. Alfred had a feeling the knives had poison on them.

Oregon was awake, just so shaken she could exactly do anything. She muttered to herself about putting dreadlocks in her hair before she reached up, found herself too shaky, and   
put her hands back down.

“Want me to do your hair sweetie?” Alfred asked as she nodded, hugging him before turning around, “How about double french braids?” she nodded again, “Okay.”

“Mama the thing- I-”

“Shh… you’re okay, slow down.”

“Who are these people, why are they here to attack us?” she whispered.

“Because mama decided a long time ago to disappear and they don’t like things that disagree.”

“That isn’t any reason!”

“Shh… lower your voice, they’re outside,” he whispered, kissing her on the top of the head as he braided.

“I- I don’t want to be drugged again.”

“I don’t want you to be drugged again,” Alfred sighed, “but I can’t do anything about it. Pretend you're at a party with people you don’t know.”

“This is a party with people I don’t know.”

“Exactly,” Alfred replied, “and when someone pours their drink on you to mock you?”

“Shove yours in their face.”

“Good girl, then?”

“Run.”

“Best option,” Alfred chuckled as Oregon laughed and smiled. 

It was only so long before her hair was done, not a stray piece in sight. She hugged him before running off to go find her group, Alfred warning her to only stay in pairs or groups   
of three so nobody gets suspicious.

As he walked alone he got increasingly reminded that being alone was bad. He could be overtaken easily, but he didn’t want to bother anyone else, so he continued alone, walking   
to the animals he heard had been locked in their cages for the past few days.

“You think you’re so cool?” A guard yelled from behind him as he turned around to face him.

He was too late when he realized that guard had his bat out, and he got hit in the face so hard he fell back onto his elbows. He was already tired, but he could defend himself. 

He was in the garden, so no fire.

The earth started to rumble beneath their feet and they realized this was what the scientists warned them about. They needed to tire him out before they got swallowed by the   
earth.

The easiest way to tire him was to beat him. You know he’s tired when he stops automatically healing himself.

He yelped as he was hit in the ribs again and again and again. He curled in on himself, covering his head as he was kicked and beaten by the two guards, who weren’t any different   
from the last.

It was so hard not to cry.

After he felt bloody they stopped, looking down at their creation.

The demon was bloodied, his hands still gripping his hair.

They started to laugh as they walked away, one pulling his mask up to spit on him before continuing.

He managed to wobble to his feet, stumbling a bit before managing to continue walking.

He found himself itching the bracelet on his wrist. It was pure black, with a little red light on the bottom. It was at least connected to his skin, but it hurt to move it to the point where it was probably connected lower than the skin. 

It was the same on his neck and ankle.

They were obviously waterproof, and probably just shocked him if he left. He was the one that those people wanted to keep because his family would come back for him.

He limped away, walking over to a horse who seemed curious as to how those two men managed to beat him.

He was tired, more paranoid than usual, and he felt like he might be having the beginning of an anxiety attack.

He pushed himself on the horses back, muttering a weak, “Kennels,” before the horse went into a trot, asking a few worried questions that got vague answers.

It only took so long before they were at the kennels, Alfred slipping off before checking the mess the animals made.

‘What is going on!’ he heard an angry wolf yell.

‘Why are these men here?!’ a cheetah exclaimed, pacing around its enclosure.

‘When can we come out?!’ a rhino -specifically the rhino that had been saved a month ago- asked, staying up by the front of the fence as he watched the Master walk through the   
kennels, beaten and bloody, but still checking to see if they were okay.

‘Shut up.’ Colchester said, a few of the other animals quieting down, ‘This is bigger than us. The family we were accepted into will help us, for now, we wait.’

‘We got shot!’ an Asian Golden Cat hissed, jumping up on his perch.

‘These aren’t good people, our family will help us,’ Chita interjected, growling before she jumped up and laid down in her box.

‘We aren’t in the best place,’ a Southern Ethiopian wolf replied, ‘and neither are you if you keep running your lips.’

‘Eat your tail!’

“Knock it off,” Alfred said, weakly as each creature fell silent. He wavered a bit when he walked, he was still able to make it to the center of the kennels. There weren’t many   
animals here, but each and every one went to the front of their cages to try and catch what he was saying. His horse helped him stand for a few seconds so he could breath easily,   
before he stood at his full height.

“I know it’s scary,” he said, “but you have to push through. We hope this won’t last forever, but for now you must stay in your kennels. I’m sorry.”

It was silent.

Animals bowed their heads and walked back into their dens.


	9. Chapter 9

“What if we rearrange the words?” Italy asked, “Hell sink me?”

“Helsinki.” Finland said, staring at the wall.

“We are so fucking stupid,” Australia laughed as Lithuania shook Poland awake, the blonde grumbling before following him into the pilots hold.

“So, we’re going to Finland?” Prussia asked, tilting his head.

“Or we could go into the ocean,” Mexico replied, looking at him with the most what the fuck look he could probably manage.

The plane turned on and started driving, but most ignored it.

“Where would any clue be in Finland?” Prussia questioned, “A strip club or a school?”

“Hey!”

“Finland,” Russia asked, looking up from his laptop, “are there any areas one might consider ‘bad’ in your capital?”

“One where there might be say, a giant spray painted half-earth.” Switzerland continued for him.

“Uh…” he muttered, “can I see that again?”

Lichtenstein showed him the picture of the symbol for Middle Earth and he nodded.

“I’ve seen it before, out behind a bar.”

“Do you know which bar?” Germany asked.

“Yes,” he nodded.

It took awhile before the plane was up in the sky.

People talked among themselves for the time being. The topic of interest at the moment was the states- most wanted to know more about them.

“Most are apparatus spirits, each and every one has demonic blood,” Romano replied to a previous question from Turkey.

Most had gone to sleep, besides Romano, Germany, Russia, Turkey, Norway, France, England, China, Canada, and Switzerland. Prussia and Denmark were flying the plane.   
Hopefully they wouldn’t crash it.

“Do any have… the physical appearances of us?” England asked, kicking his legs up.

“West, West Virginia, looks exactly like you but taller with thinner eyebrows,” Romano said, thinking for a few seconds, “Virginia looks like what you would look like if you were a   
woman, and I suppose North, North Carolina, has your eye color.”

“Are all the states just the first word in their name?” France asked, “And are the Louisiana Territory states mad at me?”

“No, North Dakota is called Dakota, South Carolina is Carolina, South Dakota is South, and North Carolina is North. West Virginia is West.” Romano replied, shrugging, “And no,   
none of them were personified then so they don’t exactly care.”

“They just appear one at a time?” Germany asked, “It doesn’t make sense.”

“No, they appear as babies on the doorstep, normally in groups of two or three, but the four corners states are quads and the MIMAL elf is the quints.”

“The MIMAL elf?” China asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Minnesota, Iowa, Missouri, Arkansas, and Louisiana form a shape on the map that apparently looks like an elf.”

“Oh dear,” France muttered, “he dealt with five babies at once by himself?”

“Ya, he had some help, but he mostly took care of the babies.”

Russia felt prideful for no reason whatsoever.

‘Haha kick it France I got the best lover,’ he thought to himself, doing his best not to smirk.

“Do any look like Russia?” Canada asked innocently, Romano looking at him for a second before nodding.

“Alaska, obviously, but also Nevada, Washington, and Oregon,” Romano said, “Alaska, York, Jersey, the Dakota twins, and Cali have the aura.”

“Six of America’s kids have it?” China asked, “No wonder he isn’t scared of Russia. Or anybody, really. Have we talked about how he’s cocky?”

“You underestimate his mind, China,” Russia said, looking down at the man who was sitting on the floor, “he is smarter than he looks. He wouldn’t have been able to keep a secret   
this big for this long if he wasn’t.”

It was fairly silent, besides the engine.

“How smart? If he’s so smart, it’s going to take ages to find him,” Norway shook his head before sighing.

“We needed the first letter to start all of this, I’m sure he wouldn’t stall for that long.”

“Not to mention I’m pretty sure these are made for people using ships,” England said, a few people looking at him weird, “What? Have you seen how far apart these things are   
placed? It would take years to find him by ship, even if you are given the first clue.”

“And, not to mention these towns are coastal,” Norway nodded, “I don’t know if it’ll stay that way, but think about it. It’s made to stall someone.”

“We have a plane.” Switzerland stated, “It doesn’t matter if it was made for boats.”

“Just an observation,” England said, dropping it.

“We should sleep,” France advised, “before people get… er, too angry.”

A few of the nations nodded, walking to their seats.

“Russia?” England asked, coming up to him, “I’ve been meaning to ask you… but… do you really love him?”

“What a stupid question,” Russia said, his eyes falling drearily, “I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t.”

“I… um-” England stuttered, “just please, don’t hurt him.”

“...Why would I?” 

England had a good idea and scurried away.

Was that why Alfred didn’t trust him? Was it because he was dangerous? Did he think he was going to hurt his children?

He… he wasn’t the monster anymore. They just knew that America wasn’t around to pick on anymore and went after the other outcast. He was fine.

He knew he was fine. He could, in some way, sense Alfred. Sense what he was feeling.

He ached, and he was scared, and Ivan wanted nothing more than to kiss him and tell him he was okay- that he was safe now, that he would always be safe.

That he could trust him because he was there.

But he wasn’t. He was trying but he wasn’t.

He knew what Alfred would say, something about how trying was enough. But in life and death trying was never enough.

He ended up falling asleep after everyone else.

When he woke up, people were getting ready for the town. Finland got them a hotel where they could wash off and wash their clothes. A few walked to the mall and bought clothes   
for everyone, getting paid back with a few different currencies.

At nightfall they left the hotel and followed behind Finland as he walked them to the place he’d seen the Middle Earth symbol. It wasn’t very well lit, making it eerie.

It was basically the same, but one of the drips went down to the ground. Italy and Denmark got a stick and started poking it, hoping that one of the bricks would be loose like last   
time.

None were.

Either this was a huge waste of time, or… wait.

Walking towards the corner of the alley, Russia followed until he saw where the concrete holding the brick together was dyed black.

“I need something that is small and will break a rock,” Russia said, turning to the nations, who shrugged.

Prussia pulled a crowbar out from behind the trashcan and handed it to him before getting out of his blood circle, a few nations backing up from both of them besides Canada,   
who smiled happily at him, probably not expecting it when Prussia ruffled his hair.

Wielding it like his pipe, he smashed the brick in one go, a few nations turning away before they could imagine the brick as a human spine.

Reaching his hand in, he found an empty compartment, pulling out another letter and a silver spider statue.

Norway took the spider and Finland took the letter, Russia reaching in to see if there was anything else. An old key. Lucky he looked.

“What does it say?” Greece asked drearily, shaking his head to try and remove the tiredness.

“I’m in a spider’s web, yet I’m in love with the spider.” Finland replied, “Then there’s something in another language I have no hope of pronouncing.”

“What about that spider and the key?” Spain asked, Russia looking at the metal in his hand with confusion. The circle for the handle was filled in, and lines ran down the sides to   
the teeth. Something was written on the outline of the handle.

“No clue.”

“Metal spider, probably has something to do with the riddle,” Norway said, fingering it in his hands.

There was some conversation as they tried to figure out what exactly these things did, before England got a call and walked away.

After a few minutes he came back.

“The queen and prime minister have agreed to help us, we just have to know who the men who attacked America are.”

“Which we don’t, so we’re gonna have to figure it out,” Lithuania sighed, shaking his head before glancing over at Russia, “would you have any idea?”

“No,” Russia replied. Alfred was fairly critical of his government, but he never brought up specific offices that might try and attack him.

A human walked by, glancing at the men before walking away. He swore he recognized her…

“Tora?” he called, the girl turning around with a smirk to face them.

“What do you need?” she chuckled, before her smile suddenly became fearful, “I don’t have much time to stand around.”

“Who attacked Al?” he asked, “We need to know.”

“Everything. FBI tapped the phones, CIA put watchers and snipers, SWAT came in,” she shook her head, “even the MOA came into the picture.”

“Who is the MOA,” England asked, taking a few steps forward as she stepped back.

“Mythical Order of America,” she replied, crossing her arms and keeping her eyes on the streets, “they deal with inhuman nasties normally, but a town of demons would give any   
one of them a major boner.”

“So… the people who look for mermaids…?” Poland asked, tilting an eyebrow.

“Yes! That!” she exclaimed, pointing at him. In a second she seemed to hear something, and without much else, fled as fast as she could. Which was fast, she was down the block   
in a few seconds.

“So the entirety of the American government came in to attack their own nation? Something doesn’t add up,” Prussia said, a few of the other nations nodding.

“He erased himself from the picture,” Russia replied, “they did something bad to him so he removed himself and hid himself.”

“Then how’d they find him?” Japan asked as Canada’s eyes widened.

“The White House documents everything. Including federal land grants made two hundred years ago.”

“So he removed himself, but not the land grant?” China asked, “Russia, you said he wasn’t stupid.”

“It’s so his home wouldn’t be sold,” England answered him, “they probably sent someone to spy on him and see if it was inhabited, then it all went down from there.”

Norway nodded, feeling a tingling come up his spine- like something was making the magic in the air go stagnant. Iceland seemed to feel it too, wrapping his arms around his stomach.

It was…

He pulled the skvader feather from his pocket, blowing on the feather as it dissolved, a wall appearing in front of the alleyway as Latvia almost started to cry, being shushed by   
Estonia.

“Norway, what the hell!” Denmark exclaimed.

“Shut up,” Norway growled in return, “everyone, be quiet.” 

It took almost fifteen minutes for the feeling to pass. In that time Iceland almost passed out, some people wouldn’t stop pacing, and Prussia wouldn’t stop touching the wall.

“It’s gone now,” Iceland muttered, pulling himself off the ground as Norway nodded.

“What happened?” Australia asked, looking at the two with confusion.

“Nothing good,” Finland replied, backing away as Norway went to place his hands on the wall, it dissolving into thin air.

“Something was looking for Tora,” Norway whispered, “and in turn, us.”

“Will she be okay?” Mexico asked softly, looking over to him.

“I don’t know.” he replied, walking away, “let’s just get back to the plane.”


	10. Chapter 10

He was woken up earlier than yesterday. When he checked the time he had only been sleeping for five hours. He knew they wouldn’t let him go to sleep again.

He followed behind the two guards, his ribs aching from where they needed to heal. They weren’t allowed to anymore. He wasn’t able to recover any of his magic from five hours   
of sleep, and not to mention the magic around the house was dead.

He had to look away when they passed another two guards, wheeling the last Piasa away to get locked up. Probably in the basement, but he wasn’t too sure. He couldn’t check.

They led him down to the sixth floor, to an old office that Rulyn used to use. He was sat down on the chair and left to wait.

This room had no windows, and very little lighting. The only things he could see on the walls were some of Rulyn’s anatomy drawings and a glass frame full of Nazi medals from   
her grandfather. Her ushanka hung on the wall, the red communist symbol shining, and a few of her fathers medals as well.

Her desk was dark and the swivel seat behind it hadn’t been used for weeks.

It took almost a half hour for another man to come in. Or it was just five minutes and he wasn’t sure. Either way, this was a room that messed with your ability to perceive time.

“Hello, you may call me Officer,” the man said, nodding. He looked like a detective from a movie- grey suit with a weird tie.

“Why not just tell me your name?”

“The chance you have the power of fae,” he replied, placing a folder down before sitting in Rulyn’s seat. He almost started snickering. She wouldn’t be happy about that.

“What do you want from me?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.

“I want to know what you know,” he answered.

Alfred growled, baring his teeth. The man didn’t falter as he stood up, his claws gripping into the desk.

“Such a beautiful creature,” the man shook his head as Alfred tilted his head in confusion, “stripes, elegant like a tiger, the voice of an angel, and the strength of the lord.”

“What are you going on about?” Alfred asked, getting nervous as he pulled himself back, sitting down and making notches in the chair where his claws dug in.

“As I said before, I only want to know,” Officer said, smiling as Alfred pulled himself in.

“Know what?”

“What you know.”

“That’s vague, get on with it.”

“While these walls tell us about these creatures, we’re never able to truly understand them unless it is from the perspective of another of the creatures,” Officer replied, motioning   
around the walls. Rulyn drew out all the little mishaps of creatures, she was just like that, and of course they would use that to their own advantage. 

The systems of dragons, the bone structures of griffons, the psychology of a wendigo. It was all written down for them to find.

“What do you want to know,” he growled, “human.”

“Where do they come from,” Officer replied, “demon.”

“Everywhere.” Alfred said, “China, Ireland, Antarctica, Greenland, Italy, Hell. Anywhere and everywhere, that’s where they come from.”

“How do we find them?”

“You know where to look.”

“Be specific.”

“You need to be specific first. You won’t find a dragon in the same place you’ll find a centaur.”

“Where would you find a demon?”

“Currently, right in front of you.”

“Don’t get sarcastic with me,” Officer said, getting impatient, “I will hurt you.”

“You can’t do anything to me without me killing you first,” Alfred smirked, giving himself the upper hand.

“Oh, but I can.”

He screamed as pain flooded from his neck, wrist, and ankle. His eyes going blurry, he held his head, digging his claws in because it hurt so badly that he just couldn’t think.

His feet pressed against the desk and pushed him off his chair.

As it faded, he managed to stumble back to his feet, trying to focus but not being able to.

“Don’t make me do that again, or else I won’t be able to see those pretty eyes of yours anymore,” Officer cooed, standing up and walking over to pull him into a hug, cupping his   
cheek as Alfred wavered.

“Such a beautiful creature,” he cooed once more, trying to pull his chin up before he noticed the tears falling from his eyes and wiped them away with his thumb while Alfred tried   
to squirm out of his grip.

“Get away from me,” he growled, digging claws into his assailants shirt. Bulletproof vest was under it. He tried to push him away, but was so shaky that he couldn’t muster any   
strength.

“May the lord forgive me,” Officer whispered under his breath as he was pulled to his lips.

The man yelped as his bottom lip was punctured by the demon’s fangs.

He got pushed to the ground, Officer taking out a remote and pointing it at him as he clutched his ruined lips, trying to keep the blood from dripping on his clothes.

Alfred screamed again, feeling the dizziness, the blurriness, the pain, returning. Long lines ran up his legs from where his claws dug in, and his teeth dug into his tongue. 

After the feeling faded, just a little, he leaned over to his side and heaved, blood and acid coming up in waves.

“Where would I find a demon?” Officer said, bending down to his level as Alfred tried to find something to focus on.

“When you die, you’ll know,”

Officer growled, backhanding him before walking away, slamming the door behind him.

“Mom…” he muttered under his breath, feeling more blood dribble down his chin, “help. Please.”

Nothing happened.

He fell unconscious from there.

When he woke up, he was in the hospital. He barely had the energy to push himself up, but something in him said he had too.

Probably the guards yelling at Samuel to get him to wake him up.

“He’s awake!” one of the guards yelled, pushing past Samuel, the other following behind.

“You need something?” he asked, trying to force himself to breathe. He felt lightheaded.

“You,” the other guard said, pulling him out of bed before he was dragged away, a terrified Samuel yelling at them to stop.

They ignored him, dragging the American away.

He couldn’t find any strength left inside him. He was dragged to the archives, where people were trying to look through the birth certificates and marriage licenses and whatnot.   
But they couldn’t, without his thumbprint.

“What, trying to see if the people here are legal Americans?” Alfred cooed, “Get out of here, ya pieces of shit.”

“Shut up,” one of the guards said, smacking him on the head.

His hand was grabbed by one of the historians and placed on the scanner, before it beeped access denied.

Good thinking, Conner.

“Why is it denied?” one of the guards asked, annoyed.

“I think we need the twin,” one of the historians replied, “if he doesn’t control the archives it’ll probably be the other one.”

“The one with red eyes?” the other guard asked, “he’s injured, I think.”

“So?”

“Not awake, injured.”

“Copy his thumbprint, see if it’ll work.”

Alfred managed not to laugh. It’ll be a while before they realize it’s Hawaii’s thumbprint they need, and her and Alaska had been up in the vents since they were discharged.  
Thinking of these grown men trying to shimmy around the vents would normally have made him break out laughing, but he knew his children were in danger if they tried it. At   
least the area was like a maze, and they didn’t even need to come down for food. 

They were safe.

A shaky Guam tiptoed his way over, a few of the historians watching out of the corner of their eyes.

‘Scared,’ he signed, ‘they hit me for not speaking.’

“Just so you assholes know,” he spun around as few of the guards and historians looking at him, “my son here, Guam, is mute. You hit him again for not speaking, and I will hit   
you back for hitting my son in the first place.”

One of the guards took a walkie-talkie from his belt, whispering, “one of the boy toddlers is mute, lighter skinned one. Mama’s mad about when he got smacked.”

The rest just looked at each other awkwardly, every single one of them noticing how there was a bandage wrapped around his head.

“C’mon baby,” he cooed, picking up his child and walking away, trying to focus on where he put his feet before he fell.

‘Why are they here?’ he signed.

“They didn’t like that I wanted to protect myself from them.”

‘Why?’

“They like control.” he sighed, “Please, stay away from them.”

‘Okay mama,’

Guam got dropped off in the garden, Primrose taking him to do plant flowers, her wings fluttering nervously the entire time.

As he walked towards the lake a few of his siblings passed him, each asking if he was alright before kissing him on the head and running off to go do their normal tasks.

He noticed the darker his siblings skin tone, the closer they were watched, and was disgusted.

As he got to the shore, he noticed Idaho clutching a bruised cheek and picking at the grass.

He sat down beside him, his son passing him a glance before focusing back on the ground. He noticed that he wasn’t just picking the grass, he was making room for roots to   
come to the surface. They wiggled and squirmed like worms, the boy contorting them with his mind until they started turning into a little statue of a syringa.

He picked it and started playing with it in his free hand.

“What happened?” Alfred asked softly, petting his sons hair and twiddling the ends in his fingers.

“I was picking flowers for Montana.” he replied, “She was scared so I wanted to give her something. One of the guards didn’t like that and punched me.”

“Oh,” Alfred mouthed, looking to the water as he thought of what to say, “you were good. Don’t listen to the guards, you can get your sister flowers.”

“He called me slurs.” Idaho said, “I wanted to tell him that he was wrong- that the things that make you happy don’t determine what your sexuality was, but I was scared. I was   
scared and now I’m a pussy and-”

“My little potato, shut up,” Alfred interjected, “you are not wrong for being scared. You are a fighter, but one fighter can’t do anything against an empire.”

“We aren’t some goddamn rando village trying to fight Rome-” he stopped himself, “Oh my fucking god we are.”

“We can’t fight, but we can resist,” his mother replied, wrapping an arm around him and kissing him on the top of the head, “we will be free again.”

Idaho didn’t answer, just cuddled up into him.

He heard shuffling before Alexei sat down beside him, brushing a hand through his hair before looking at Alfred with a look that made him worried.

“They’re thinking of telling the Russian government that the four of us are still alive,” 

“Good.”

“What do you mean good-” Alexei stopped himself before smirking, giving him finger guns.

These dumbasses probably thought that there were no personifications besides America.

And, when you tell the Russian government something huge like that, you’re telling Ivan to come get them, and they knew where the house is. They could tell them everything.   
They could be safe.

At the price that now every personification now knows about him.

‘So what?’ his mind tested, ‘You’re powerful, some of them already nicknamed you demon, why the fuck should you care?’

Because he wanted to be part of the group.

He was already part of a group, a group that was being hurt right in front of him. His family that he couldn’t protect.

‘Please Ivan, hurry.’

Their lives rested on it.


	11. Chapter 11

“Does anyone have any fucking idea what this means?” England yelled, looking just about ready to throw his laptop half-way across the plane.

“Stockholm,” Sweden said, Finland looking at him for a few seconds with a blank expression.

“Stockholm Syndrome,” Belarus said, snapping her fingers, “I’m kidnapped, but I love my kidnapper.”

“What’s with the spider analogies?” Prussia asked, “Thought it was in Australia.”

“Shut up,” Germany said, standing, the bouncy Italian following behind him as he walked into the cockpit.

It was only so long before the plane started moving.

“What do you think the weird words are for?” Spain asked, looking at the letter.

“Spell to start the spider,” Iceland replied.

“What about the key?” Russia asked as Norway held his hand out to take it, studying the words inscribed on it.

“Rød wyvern, hvor er skalaen din?” Norway read it aloud, only the other Nordic’s understanding the Norwegian.

“English please,” Poland said, his feet kicked up on one of the seats.

“Red wyvern, where is your scale.” Denmark translated, “but what the fuck does that even mean?”

“Hold this,” Norway said, handing him the key before digging in his bag and pulling out the jar of scales. He got a tray with edges out from under one of the seats before he   
dumped them onto it.

He pushed the assortment of scales around, finding a larger, dull, red scale before he put it to his side and started scooping the scales back into the jar, closing the lid and   
dropping it into his bag before grabbing the scale and holding his hand out, Denmark handing him the key as he placed it on the handle.

It started glowing red, the lines going down it’s sides starting to glow as the teeth changed, getting thinner with more notches.

“Oh it’s a magic key,” Mexico said, his eye twitching, “nobody saw that coming.”

“You shouldn’t diss magic,” China warned, “unless you want to be cursed.”

“Hate to break it to you, but a few days ago I found out I’m related to a demon and that I probably am one!”

“You might be a demon,” Romano said, shrugging, “but probably not. You’re half-human half-clan, not likely you’ll ever be able to transform, if at all.”

“What am I?” Canada asked nervously.

“America’s younger brother,” Romano replied.

“I think he’s the youngest kid actually,” Lithuania said, “because the oldest is almost fourteen thousand and the Mother only died four-hundred fifty years ago.”

China started choking on his tea.

“How old is America?” France asked, slightly concerned for the answer.

“Three thousand years or so.”

And China started hacking up a lung, Japan patting him on the back half-heartedly.

Russia did the math in his head. America was at least 2100 years older than him.

Okay.

Both were immortal anyway, and at least he didn’t act like China.

He seemed to live in the present, and of course he did. With family as old as his they would have learned to live in the present instead of yearning for the past, because the present   
should always be new. If there’s nothing new, there’s something wrong.

Added to the fact he was American culture, the thing that was so constantly in flux that most countries ignored it.

“Also,” Romano said, as everyone got ready for another shit storm, “He’s the son of your older sister, China.”

“WHAT?”

“Winema,” Belarus nodded.

“The… the tall ones that would disappear and then reappear? The giants?”

“Ya, that would be them.”

“I thought I was imagining them…” he muttered, suddenly confused. Also, Mr. Dumbass was his… niece… and he was almost as old as him.

He did not like that thought, so he ignored it.

People continued talking, Greece going back to sleep after stealing the marker from Turkey’s bag so he wouldn’t get a mustache or something drawn on him.

Russia was irked. Something felt wrong.

The sun was going down, meaning it was starting to rise in America. That normally translated to ‘I’m gonna wiggle my way into your soul’ but today was different. He knew it was   
different.

After they landed, and it set, they started falling asleep for the night to continue in the morning.

Alfred either never woke up, or something was so severely wrong that he couldn’t.

That was when he started feeling the panic from his love. The fear- then the pain. It was hollow, he couldn’t feel the extent of it, but he knew that it was bad. Bad for anyone to   
have to face, let alone his… did demons call their lover’s mates? He supposed Alfred would be his mate, although a few things got lost in translation.

Demons were always imagined as these animalistic creatures… but Americans were also just… like that.

It took almost a minute before he sensed that hollow pain again, and he wished he could go over and beat the one who was hurting him with his pipe then tear out his stomach   
and hang him from a pole.

“Big brother, go to sleep you’re scaring Latvia.”

The next morning was snappy… to say the least. People were starting to get agitated just being around each other.

They needed some time to cool off.

“Norway, Iceland, Russia, Switzerland, and Lichtenstein,” Germany called, the five looking at him before he continued, “being the calmest countries at the moment, you will be the   
ones to find the next clue. Everyone else, go get some coffee or something. I want you back by one.”

“Score!” Poland exclaimed, running out of the plane with the Baltics and Prussia following behind, Lithuania and Prussia bickering all the while.

Germany went with Italy to escape from everyone else. Romano and Spain ran off, the Spainard dragging the Italian. China seemed to want to talk to Canada and Mexico, and Japan   
followed behind. Finland and Sweden disappeared faster than one could blink, and Denmark ended up following after Prussia. Greece and Turkey started to fight, and he could   
hear them yelling from inside the plane. Australia followed France and England like a lost puppy, not wanting to be alone.

“What’s the first course of action?” Switzerland asked, the magical brothers shrugging and Russia staring off into space.

“Probably the spider,” Iceland said, Norway handing it to him.

“But what do we do with it?” Norway replied, Russia finally looking over.

“There were weird words on the last clue, da?”

“Oh,” Iceland mouthed, “the spell.”

Lichtenstein grabbed it from her seat and carried it over, handing it to Norway, who took one look at it and seemed to blank.

“This is just random letters.”

Russia took the paper in his hands, trying to figure out what this was.

Gugi anigigage, uyetsvgi.

(Pest, wake up.)

What kind of language was this even?

“Can I try?” Lichtenstein said softly, Russia handing her the clue.

“Gugi… ani… anigiga...ge, u-yetsv...gi?”

“Gugi anigigage, uyetsvgi?” Iceland repeated, the spider in his hand started to move. He panicked, dropping it, and thankfully it didn’t break. Instead it started walking out of the   
plane, the five sharing a glance before following it.

It moved fast, and sometimes when there was a group of people it would climb the walls- at least when they lost it, it would stop moving and wait for them to catch up.

They followed it through Stockholm, walking into the neighborhood it went in to, watching the windows with wide eyes as the spider crawled along the streets.

It stopped at a door, at an extremely run over house. The entire neighborhood was fairly… old, he supposed. It was out of the way of tourists, so it wasn’t likely the biggest   
problem for the government.

Walking up, Russia knocked on the door, almost starting to sweat when a man opened the door.

Jesus, he was whiter than snow.

“Oh no,” he said, looking him up and down and looking over his shoulder to see the other four, “what’s happened now?”

“Uh…”

“Oh, right,” he sighed, “come in, my name is Heimdall.”

Norway and Iceland looked just about ready to pass out, but Switzerland dragged them inside.

The house was… odd. Swords, scandinavian helmets, and a feather cloak were all in the entryway, with normal things like coats and scarves. 

“Follow me,” Heimdall said, walking through a hallway into a main room, where two men, one lean, thin and tall, and the other, bulky and muscular, were bickering in a language   
that was definitely Nordic but… not quite.

A woman with golden hair, a white dress with a gold belt and a crown of leaves shot for the tea kettle upon seeing them, the lean man telling her something in that language as 

she snapped back in the same one.

“That’s Frigg,” Heimdall pointed to the woman, “Loki,” he pointed to the thin man, “and Thor,” he pointed to the last man, who was sucking on a beer bottle like it was the last   
thing left.

“Is English required?” Loki asked with a chuckle, walking over and studying them.

“Silent yourself, little rodent,” Frigg growled, “before I make you sit back under that snake.”

“I served my time!” Loki exclaimed, “Balder’s back no need to get pissy!”

“Both of you, quiet down,” Heimdall said, exposing golden teeth, “something happened to Chief Dyami.”

Thor started choking on his beer, ending up on his knees. A teenage boy ran over and started smacking him on the back, the man whispering a faint, “Thanks Balder.” before   
standing back up.

“Do I need the hammer?” Thor asked, reaching for a hammer all of them just noticed was on the opposite wall.

They could feel the power etching off from where they were sitting. The spider started to crawl up Loki’s pants, before going into his hair and falling into its starting position. It   
probably wouldn’t move again.

He put it on a shelf.

“No,” Heimdall shook his head, “we don’t know where his home is, not to mention they’re here for the chest.”

“Ah…” Thor said, laughing just slightly before smirking at them, “I’ll be getting the boss~”

That was enough to make all of them a little nervous.

Another woman, with brown hair and long eyelashes, walked down, crossing her arms and leaning on the wall. The look in her eyes made them twice as nervous.

Thor walked down, another man following behind him. One of his eyes were covered in an eyepatch, and he was wearing a gold helmet.

“Are they worthy?” Frigg asked, pouring the five cups of tea.

The man walked forward, taking a glance at them before his eyes landed on Russia.

Let’s play a game called not have a panic attack.

“My sons, the neutral ones, and the prophesied one.”

Norway and Iceland seemed to melt, Switzerland and Liechtenstein were worried if being neutral was good or bad, and Russia was just confused. There was a prophecy about him?   
Since when?

“True warriors,” the man said, “they are worthy. Hermod, come here, bring the chest.”

Another man came down, carrying a chest the size of a man's head in his hands. Russia pulled out the key, and Hermod stood still as it weaved into the chests lock, turning from   
metal to wood.

After a few seconds, it popped open, exposing an envelope like all the others, but also a few scrolls and a… pure white chicken egg, wrapped in some sort of metal thing.

Another key at the bottom.

He looked at Hermod for a second before grabbing the things in the box, Norway and Iceland coming over to take the scrolls while he put the key and envelope in his pocket and   
carried the chicken egg.

Thor wolf-whistled, looking at the egg with interest before walking away, the woman sharing a similar expression before she followed behind.

“Thank you sir,” Norway stuttered, bowing his head to the man with the eyepatch.

He and Iceland got a pat on the head before the man said something in Norwegian to Norway and something in Icelandic to Iceland, making both blush red before he walked away.

“Stay for tea,” Frigg cooed, the group sharing a glance before nodding, the woman lighting up and leading them to a dining room, where she sat then down and gave them each a   
cup of tea that tasted suspiciously like coffee.

Probably was coffee actually. They were in Sweden.

“Kaffe? (Coffee)” Norway asked, Frigg nodding.

“Det ikke ord (Don’t know word),” she said, nervously.

“Du er fin (You’re fine),” Norway replied.

They drank in silence, only Norway and Iceland understanding what they were supposed to be doing but getting so stuck in their own heads- THEY WERE SITTING WITH FRIGG-   
that they couldn’t bring themselves to speak.

“You better head off, if you want to be back your plane by one,” Heimdall said, walking in. Russia glanced at his phone and noticed it was 12:15. If it took them almost an hour to   
get here than they should definitely get moving so Germany didn’t get mad.

“Tusen takk for at du har oss (Thank you so much so having us),” Norway said, bowing slightly to the two.

“Thakka thyer fireer (thank you),” Iceland said as well.

“No need! No need! You’re good people,” Frigg cooed, “now, go save the Chief.”

The group nodded, Heimdall following behind them as they left the house, Russia still carrying around his egg.

They walked into the plane at exactly one.

It was calmer now. People had relaxed being out of the cramped plane.

“Okay, let’s get started on the next clue,” Germany said, looking a lot less stressed.

Russia took the envelope out of his pocket, opening it.

“I am compared to America in every way, a powerful empire that crumbled away.”

“Why do these riddles suck?” Prussia interjected.

“Let’s just get to work,” England sighed, pulling out his computer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man with the eyepatch is Odin, the random woman on the side is Freya.


	12. Chapter 12

Following behind the procession, he watched the edges. People mourned over the three that had died, all while guards and snipers watched from above. They didn’t like groups, but they couldn’t do anything about a funeral. 

Behind him, Kele, Coahoma, and Maikoh and Tala carried saplings- some older, some younger, depending on the age of the one who died.

It was a long procession. It could be up to an hour to walk from the garden to the forest, but every person carried on. He spotted Hawaii and Alaska in the crowd- Via, Rico- all of   
them. Everyone who wasn’t too hurt to come was here, following alongside him.

As they finally got to the forest edge- where three holes were already dug, the bodies were lowered, the white cloth draping over them. One member from each of their families   
jumped in- Veronica with Thomas, Alexandryn with Fajra, and Alvin, her boyfriend, with Ava.

The white sheets were thrown up, landing beside the holes, Melantha running forward to collect them as the three got adorned with the jewels they owned in their life, the ones   
that didn’t have enough room on their body got it placed on their chest. The only thing that stayed off them were things they had willed to their family and friends. He noticed   
Alvin fiddling with Ava’s necklace when he jumped out. Veronica had Thomas’ earring, and Alexandryn handed a wedding ring back to their mother, Adeena’s heart seeming to   
break more.

The saplings were placed in front of the corresponding grave.

He stepped forward, the death rite coming from his lips like second nature as the dirt behind the graves shifted forward, covering the bodies just enough before the saplings   
seemed to stand up on their own and walk into the graves, starting to plant themselves as the dirt continued to flow in.

After it was done, he fell to his knees, starting to cough, a few people running forward to see if he was okay.

“Just tired,” he said, another cough coming from his throat. He felt so weak, his entire body shaking like a leaf.

Conner grumbled, picking him up under the shoulder and starting to lead him back to the house, the family dispersed, some to go to pay their respects, others to go back home,   
others to get back to work.

“C’mon, you need a rest,” he muttered as they got to the stables, Alfred’s feet starting to fall out from under him.

“No,” A guard said, “he chose to use magic, today he is not allowed to collect any more.”

“We can barely ‘collect’ any at all,” Conner countered, “you shitheads stopped the flow.”

“I am only following orders,” the guard victimized himself, pissing off the brothers more.

In a second Alfred’s hand shot out, the guards mask breaking as his eyes were torn out with one slash. He fell to the ground, blood coming from his face.

“You are required by law to deny unlawful orders,” Alfred spat, his hair starting bristle, “making yourself the victim is confirmation that you did something bad and knew it was bad   
and tried to get away with it.”

Conner sighed, looking down on the guard. His partner was staring at the body like a deer in headlights, before he got out his bat.

The brothers shared a look as the guard ran forward, Conner holding his hand out as the guard went to strike, flame bursting from his palm. The guard was dead in a few   
seconds.

“Run.” Alfred said, hearing heavy footsteps.

“You can’t run!” Conner exclaimed, “I’m not leaving you behind.”

“I’m not gonna get killed.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Get on the ground.” A guard ordered, Conner dropping his brother before getting on his knees both holding their arms behind their head.

“Boss, we’ve secured the-”

Alfred started laughing, “Honey, I’m on the ground. If anything is secured, it’s you.”

Vines sprouted from the ground, wrapping around their ankles, Alfred and Conner barely spared them a glance before running, hearing bullets buzz over their heads. Alfred would stumble, but some sort of adrenaline fantasy made him capable of making it.

A pair of guards got the jump on them.

They were forced to the ground, Alfred managing to land a good hit to his attackers arm and Conner managing to get a grip on his attackers shoulder with his teeth.

A sedative dart went into his arm, but like hell was it enough to knock him out.

Three more went into his body, eventually crumbling him to the ground, Conner following after.

When he woke up, his heart was beating fast and he felt a little high. Just a little.

He tried to struggle, finding his arms tied behind his back. Fuck- he was stuck. He only then noticed he was in a chair, and that he was tired. Not sleeping tired, depression and   
anxiety tired. Like his body wanted to just stop for a few seconds, to rest for a few hours.

“Do you have any idea what you did?” he heard Mister’s voice growl as he looked up and around. Conner seemed to be coming out of his sedative daze.

“Killed some people,” Alfred shrugged the best he could with his arms tied so tightly, “injured some others.”

“Why you little-” he raised his hand as Alfred flinched, before the man smiled, “you’re learning. Good boy.”

A piece of jerky was waved in front of his face by one of the guards beside him and he was… confused.

He didn’t take it, which seemed to make the guard angry, trying to shove it into his mouth like he was a toddler that didn’t want to eat his greens.

“You can take it, you were good,” Mister cooed. Alfred still didn’t. He grabbed his bat and Alfred flinched before it hit, and as he was about to protest the jerky was shoved into his   
mouth.

He just swallowed it. There was no point.

“He’s being trained well,” Mister complimented, patting the demon on the cheek as Alfred got the most annoyed expression he could possibly manage before it just stopped. A   
syringe was coming out of his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Mister asked a person behind him, the little scientist bouncing on his toes.

“The head scientist said we should start him on high doses of anxiety medication so that his heart rate stops going everywhere,” the scientist said, “it will also make him more   
docile and stop the chance of him killing himself or getting killed by his body.”

“Make sure she asks before she puts any of them on medications.”

“I will,” the scientist chirped, grabbing the syringe and fast-walking away.

Mister glared at the door as it was shut, motioning for the guards to cut the ropes holding him.

He was released, but he just sat with his head down, before shaking out his body and walking away. He never spoke, he just left.

It felt so nice. Everything around him was okay! Everyone was fine and everything was nice and nice was good.

He saw Coahoma out of the corner of his eye and wanted to greet her but couldn’t exactly get the words out but he did smile.

She looked him up and down before grabbing his hand and dragging him away.

“Eek!” Alfred whimpered, feeling the grip of her claws on his skin. Why did this hurt? This wasn’t supposed to hurt. It never hurt.

It stopped being nice.

He was scared. What was happening? This wasn’t supposed to happen, everything was fine.

“Who gave you heroin? I can smell it, don’t lie.” Coahoma growled, pulling him into Cole’s room.

“Wha?” he tried, his tongue going numb in his mouth.

“I asked, who gave you heroin?”

He didn’t know how to answer. He didn’t know. Why did she think he knew? He didn’t know anything.

“Oh my god how the fuck do you have a syringe stabbed into you and not know who did it?!”

“Uh.”

“Dyami, who stabbed you?”

“Man with the coat.”

“A scientist?”

“Ya.”

“Why are they giving you drugs?”

“They want to be…” Alfred fizzled out for a moment, “nice.”

“No, drugs are bad. You don’t need them.”

“But it’s so good!” Alfred exclaimed, almost wobbling over, his sister catching him before he fell face-first into the floor.

It took hours before it wore off, Coahoma spending her time trying to keep him in the room before he made a bad decision. His critical thinking skills were out the window. At   
least heroin didn’t give you a hangover.

Alfred was currently laying on the floor, switching between consciousness and unconsciousness with his sister laying beside him, her tail swishing irritably. The only animal here   
was one of the older dogs who just wanted to be left alone and a few ferrets. Apparently the guards had shot a few, thinking they were invading the house because apparently   
nobody knows the difference between a ferret and a weasel. Both were bred in this house anyways, and they shouldn’t be shooting the things that made them money- oh right.   
They could make money anymore. Not to mention the fact that they weren’t even being given toothpaste and soap!

Fucking bastards trying to rule over them.

Alfred pushed himself up on wobbly legs, longing for the feeling of being okay again, but the glaring of Coahoma from behind him was an easy no. 

He managed to walk outside, his body shaking so bad it was getting comidical for the guards that were watching from every corner and main doorway.

When he walked outside, his breath caught in his throat.

Russel, Tora, Xenia- even Marco… were handcuffed and being led into the house. He saw Tora pass a glance to him. She was crying. She was crying so hard she wheezed and   
huffed and choked and tried to get away but she couldn’t.

Raidlyn was the last one out. Blood ran down his face and around his neck was a collar, much like his own. But what was the point? Raidlyn wasn’t demonic, he was just a human. 

Or, that blood was intencional.

He felt sick.


	13. Chapter 13

“What about those scrolls?” Turkey asked, poking one until it fell off the table, “Useless?”

“We haven’t even opened them yet,” Norway said, shrugging, “try them.”

Turkey slipped the scroll on the floor up with his foot and kicked it up, grabbing it before looking at it for a few seconds before gaining a face that screamed ‘why?’ and extreme irritation.

Greece looked over his shoulder and started giggling.

“It’s in Linear B.” Turkey said, shoving it into Greece’s arms, “You read it.”

“I think I’m the only one that can.”

“Shut up.”

Greece started reading through the paper. It was mostly just a big picture, but all the notes on the edges were in Linear B- also known as the language they wrote in, in Mycenaean Greece.

He noticed specifically how to break a seal to summon a helper- like the things for the Medusa’s snake crystal they’d gotten, but harder.

“Okay,” Greece said, “did anyone get an egg?”

Russia took the egg he’d gotten and put it on the table as Greece nodded.

“The last words say ‘the key is the spear.’ does anyone have any clue what that means?”

“Nein.”

“Not a clue~aru.”

“Do we have to find a spear now?” Denmark asked, “damn.”

Most people just focused on trying to figure out what the city was while Greece and Turkey argued over what ‘the key is the spear’ meant.

“Where in the world does it even say that?” Turkey growled, Greece smacking his finger down above the word spear. Turkey glanced at it a second before deadpanning.

“The word is peeling off the paper.”

Greece passed a glance before pulling the scroll over to himself, scratching the key off the paper. As soon as it was completely off, it turned into steel, both nations watching it  
with interest.

Turkey grabbed the egg, Russia watching them out of the corner of his eye. Greece stuck the key in the lock, the metal surrounding the egg popping off. Greece passed a glance to the scroll before flipping the egg upside down, revealing a crack in the surface.

The two shared a glance before Turkey got up and grabbed a tray, Greece setting the egg on it. Like mother birds, they waited.

Norway watched the two over their shoulders to make sure something wouldn’t blow up while Iceland spent his time organizing the other two scrolls. Aka, trying to set them on  
top of each other because he was bored.

Italy, Romano, and Latvia screamed their heads off when the egg exploded. Germany yelled something about not making the plane explode and Prussia, Denmark, and Australia  
let out the most nervous laughter any of them had ever heard.

“What did you two do?” Switzerland asked, glaring at the two shell-shocked men.

Turkey squeaked something out but nobody had any idea what he said so it fell on deaf ears.

A squeal came from the little bit of smoke that flew up from the tray, and something walked out.

It was pure white, and tiny, like, chick tiny. Greece got a good look at it, his head spinning as he studied it.

Bat wings, lizards head, barbed tail, claws on its arms and legs- it was a dragon. But tiny. Very, very, tiny.

It let out a little noise, similar to a bird, before looking around for a few seconds, stretching its wings before doing a little stumbly walk around the tray, trying to climb the wall  
but either not knowing, or not strong enough, too.

It was only a few more seconds before it got scared and started crying out, people glancing at each other as they tried to figure out what to do with it.

“Lithuania, you used to live with America, deal with it,” Prussia said, pushing the nation forward before getting smacked in the face with an elbow.

“I don’t know shit about baby dragons!” Lithuania snapped, “Bel? Romano?”

“No idea.”

“... Nope.” Romano shook his head, “Although Alfred did have a few baby dragons when I was around him, they were very much different breeds. I don’t know how to deal with one that size. I don’t even know what breed it is.”

“Hmm,” Belarus hummed, walking over and scooping up the dragon in her hands, the creature immediately trying to bite her fingers, “think it’s the same breed as Tiko?”

“Tiko’s a dwarf Brazilian Black Lily,” Lithuania replied, “all of ‘em are melanistic.”

“What about…” Romano started, “nevermind, they’re bigger than that.”

“Wisp?” Belarus asked, the two sharing a glance before thinking.

“They’re the only ones that small.”

“Ya, likely.”

“My little vino is so smart!” Spain gushed, wrapping his arms around the man’s neck and pulling him into a very one sided hug, the Italians face redder than a tomato.

Belarus and Lithuania started snickering at him, Romano flipping both of them off.

“What is a Wisp?” Germany asked, holding Prussia and Italy by the collars so they wouldn’t run off to bother Romano.

“A type of dragon, they’re small, easily trained,” Lithuania shrugged, “apparently they can understand any language and they’re normally used as messengers and a living alert  
system.”

“It’s Rome!” Mexico yelled suddenly, “The riddle leads to Rome!”

“Oh…” China mouthed, “thought it was Persia.”

“Messenger and alert system are two very different jobs,” Norway said, walking over and looking at the dragon. It growled at him, crawling up Belarus’ arm and hiding between her hair and neck as she tried to stop laughing.

“It’s because they’re normally packed up with bigger dragons, kinda like birds and elephants.” Lithuania answered for him as Belarus tried to get the baby dragon out of her hair.

“Do we have to give it gold or something for it to do something besides make noise and annoy Belarus?” Denmark asked, Romano shaking his head.

“It’s hungry, do we even have anything for a dragon?”

“What do they eat?” Italy asked, Germany finally letting him go.

“Anything.”

“Anything?” Prussia asked, “Don’t they eat meat and people?”

“Please,” Lithuania chuckled, “a dragon has to reason to attack a human. They’re either the size in which a human is a toothpick, or they’re the size of a dog, and in the case of this one, it’ll only grow to be about the size of a crow.”

“So, tiny dragon we all get that what the fuck are we supposed to do with it?” Australia interjected.

“Keep it,” Belarus shrugged, holding it in her hands again. It was still crying for food.

Germany reached into his bag and pulled out a bag of dog treats, taking a few out before placing them beside the dragon, basically everyone watching as it sniffed them a few seconds before nibbling on it.

“It doesn’t need that much, potato,”

“We’re keeping it quiet for a longer time,” Germany shrugged, Belarus putting the dragon back into the tray, the creature continuing to nibble onto its food without much else.

“So, back to what Mexico was saying,” Germany said, looking back to the glaring Mexican, who was very pissed about being ignored for almost five minutes while some dumbasses tried to get their lives together.

“Rome, it’s Rome,” he stated, “America is compared to Rome.”

“So, we’re going to Italy?” Germany verified, the group nodding as Russia looked over to the other two scrolls, choosing the older looking one as the plane started moving.

He noticed it was written in Old Church Slavonic, and had to really try to figure out what it said.

Something about broken carts? No- land of the broken carts. Wait no, this was talking about another land, far better than this barren land.

He felt a little salty and wondered where this was written. Maybe… Northern Kievan Rus’?

It talked about two women- probably immortal- who were called the ‘Great Giver’s’ and the ‘Mother and Good Witch’. The mother had seven husbands, and the ‘Good Witch’ took God as her husband.

The Mother had a lot of kids (apparently the amount of grass in a field, whatever that meant), the Good Witch only having two.

One of the sons was chosen to take his mother’s throne, and something was blurred out, but apparently one of the husbands went crazy and ‘spread his illness’ onto two others, the Mother's favorite and the prince’s sire, and they started killing their kids, only capable of spreading their illness to those over sixteen, so apparently none of their children.

Apparently the prince killed all his parents and became the lord of his siblings. His aunt dissolved and ascended into/became limbo… apparently.

What a weird fairytale.

Time to put this down and attempt to forget it exists.

“What was that?” Estonia asked, poking the scroll.

“Some weird tale,” Russia shrugged, “you won’t be able to read it.”

“Weird to you means a lot of things?”

“Kid killed his parents and aunt clips the map.”

“Oh…” Estonia mouthed, taking a few steps back, “I’ll leave you with that…”

It took hours before they were in Rome, to the point the sun had sunk long ago. Some people were already asleep as the plane skidded on the runway, Russia taking his time to  
look out the window. The euphoria he would get before when Alfred woke up was gone. It had been three days since they’d been at that… house… and now… how long has it  
been? Four or five days, and he was getting worried.

“Sometimes I wonder whether you just have insomnia or you’re trapped in your own head,” Lithuania asked, sitting beside him.

“Something’s wrong.”

“Yeah, he got kidnapped.”

“Worse than that,” Russia replied, “something bad is happening.”

“I wonder…” Norway whispered, sitting across from them, “can you sense him?”

“Sort of.”

“Where is he?”

“I said sort of,” Russia said, glancing at the Norwegian, “more of emotions then actual locations.”

“What are his emotions?”

“That’s the thing, the last time I went into his mind was the time everyone thought I was poisoned or something.”

“Is it dark in there?” Iceland interjected, sitting beside his brother.

“Definitely.”

The two brothers shared a glance before Lithuania spoke up, “I’m not that surprised, that’s what happens when you keep everything to yourself. Your mind becomes your hermit hole, and everything gets trapped. Kinda like Romano’s room, but there’s nowhere to walk anymore.”

“Sometimes I think he knows how to fix himself but can’t bring himself too,” Russia said, “he can kill every person in his home, yet something was turned off and now he can’t.”

“They would say emotions would do that,” Norway replied, nodding, “the trolls, emotions can weaken your magic and sixth sense, or make it too strong for you to handle.”

“Not to mention, when the magic stilled in Helsinki,” Iceland interjected, “I can’t imagine how that would feel to a demon. Probably draining I guess? But sickening and repulsive.”

“And if he’s stuck in it… he’s trapped. The off switch is whatever they’re using to steal the magic and there’s a lock and key.”

“What do you think would happen if we didn’t get to him fast enough?” Lithuania asked, Norway gulping.

“Without his sustaining source… he’d die, to put it simply. Turn into… what is it? A zombie? Before downright decomposing alive.”

“How long would that take?” Russia asked, worried as Iceland and Lithuania averted their gazes.

“I’d give it… another month.”

Russia was about to jump up, but Lithuania managed to get him to sit back down.

“We don’t have time for this,” Russia growled, “who knows how many clues are left? If we don’t hurry up he’s gone.”

“Go to sleep,”

“Go to sleep?” Russia asked, his voice turning sadistic, “How would you feel if Belarus and Poland had their lives threatened?”

“What would he want you to do?” Lithuania asked, “It’s not that hard. He’s a mother hen when he needs to be.”

“You are with me or you are against me,” Russia said, his eyes seeming to glow in the low lighting, “what is your choice?”

“You are an idiot if you think you’re going alone,” Belarus said, both of their eyes snapping to her. She was wide awake, reading the last scroll.

“We’ll cover for you,” Iceland said, Norway holding a thumbs up over the seat.

“So, let’s go,” Belarus said, “I know where, bring your pipe.”

She scooped up the little snoozing dragon and slipped it into a tiny bag, putting it in her pant’s pocket as the other two followed her. She also grabbed one of the Medusa’s Snake things, the amethyst knife, the animal-talk bandana, and the useless stick.

“We aren’t gonna die are we?” Lithuania asked when they got out of the plane, noticing that she grabbed a lot of weapons.

“Dyami decided to make this one extra difficult,” Belarus sighed, “so maybe.”

“Maybe?” Lithuania asked, sounding stressed.

“Let’s just go.” Russia said, following behind his sister.

The airport was dark and eerie, the streets were dark and eerie, the moon was still rising and Russia had no patience. Lithuania trailed behind them, following as they walked  
through the streets.

The nearest piazza was luckily their destination. They ended up looking through the alleyways before Lithuania noticed the mini version of the Middle Earth symbol on a single  
brick.

Without thinking, he pressed it.

A keyhole appeared, and Belarus went to his side, unlocking it with the key they got in the last chest.

It sunk into the wall, before turning black and spreading into a door frame shape, the two siblings smirking.

“Well.” Belarus stated, “That works.”

The siblings walked into the portal, Lithuania staying shocked for so long that Russia’s hand came out just to drag him in.

It was dark, like they were in a sewer or cave, but a river or stream or maybe even sewer water, dark as Tartarus, went into the darkness. The entire area was just made out of gray bricks, and that did nothing to make them think they weren’t in a sewer.

Walking along the river, they started hearing splashing and growling, and saw a few scattered bones along the side of the water.

They walked a little faster.

There was no light at the end of the tunnel. Lithuania simply ran into it.

He tried to feel around for a door as Belarus kept her eyes on the water, gulping when she saw ripples touch the surface. Russia kept his eyes on the ground and walls, noticing  
that there was a little cut out area where something or someone would be able to watch them at the top of the wall.

Russia swore he saw eyes and started walking back along the wall, stopped in his tracks.

The wolf itself was huge, almost twice the size of a normal one, like a dire wolf size. It bared its teeth, making sure he backed away from trying to leave. He heard Belarus shriek  
and looked over to see a creature looming out of the water- like what Scotland said his ‘Nessie’ looked like, but with a large fin coming out of the back of its head.

Lithuania started hurrying to try and find that handle as Belarus got out the knife and Russia his pipe.

The wolf growled, it’s fur bristling as it studied the object in his hands. He’d seen this before- the wolf was scared.

With a vacant expression, he tapped his pipe on the ground, the wolf instantly nibbling on that instead of him. Belarus was watching the blade of the knife, occasionally passing  
glances to the thing looming over her.

“They’re just scare tactics,” Russia deadpanned, Lithuania turning around before gazing at them, gaining a look of recognition.

“I know these two,” Lithuania chuckled, “Alfred was training them when I still lived with him. The ‘wolf’ is an Amarok, named Skitz, and the water thing is an Ogopogo named  
Okanagan.”

“Then tell this one to stop being creepy,” Belarus said, taking out the useless stick before placing it on a collar he hadn’t noticed was around Okanagan’s neck, Lithuania whistling before the creature bent down, nuzzling into his chest. Skitz ran over too, trying to lick Lithuania’s face as the Baltic laughed.

Belarus saw something shiny on Skitz’s collar and bent down, petting the wolf’s face before snatching a key, the Amarok licking her hand before going to see what this new man was.

Russia had very few complaints as the wolf went to lick his face.

Belarus felt around before she felt a keyhole, putting the key in before the brick turned into a door and the three went into a new room, this time bright and clean.

Okanagan jumped on the surface before slipping through the door and back in the water like a salmon. Skitz followed behind them, wanting to play with them.

“This place is nice,” Belarus said, petting Skitz as she looked around, the wolf easily passing her shoulder in height.

“I think I get it,” Lithuania said, “it’s a test of character. You need the animals to complete this, but most would have killed them instead of befriending them.”

It was then Russia noticed the tunnels of water and the tightropes around the ceiling. If you didn’t have Okanagan, you would definitely fail, drowning in the tunnels.

“Open,” Lithuania said, in a fairly commanding voice, the two animals jumping up, Okanagan flying through the tunnels and Skitz somehow running over the tightropes. Both  
clicked a button, and another door on the opposite end opened before the animals jumped down, before both went to playing with each other in the water, another door opening to them as both seemed ecstatic to go run and play in their new tunnel, the trio let them be as they went through their own tunnel.

It wasn’t dark, but it wasn’t light. It was like what you’d see in an American movie- the lighting they gave interrogation rooms. There was no water, but the walls were covered in barbed wire, which was… terrifying.

He noticed a panel at the top of the wall was opened, and wondered if Skitz or Okanagan would come down.

He was wrong.

A bird flew down, larger than any eagle he’d ever seen, with seven long feathers stemming from its tail and a mohawk of feathers running down it’s head and back. Belarus  
gasped, looking up at it with wonder.

“Lithuania, prop me up, I can’t reach its collar from down here,” Belarus said, waving the stick a little. The Lithuanian scooped her up with fair ease, sitting her down on his  
shoulders while Russia kept an eye on that bird.

“Hey!” Belarus called, waving her arms, “Over here!”

The bird gained interest, doubling back. As it started coming closer Belarus opened her hands to try and catch it before noticing it was opening its mouth.

Russia caught his sister as she fell off Lithuania's shoulders. They threw themselves to the side as fire came from the bird's mouth, so hot it started melting the barbed wire.

He started panicking when the stone behind the barbed wire started cracking, something from the other side trying to break in.

The bird flew around, it’s orange and red feathers ruffled and the mohawk of black feathers standing straight up.

The stone on one side started breaking more and more, the bird trying to hit them again and again as they danced around it. If they carried on like this for much longer there  
wouldn’t be a floor.

The little white dragon shot out of Belarus’ pocket, the creature… wasn’t strong enough to open its wings.

It screamed as it fell from the sky, just about to fall into the flames before the bird flew down and grabbed it in its talons, the dragon crawling up its leg and staying on its back.

Of course. They paired up with bigger creatures and those bigger creatures protected them.

At least they knew the bird wasn’t rabid. Just an asshole.

“Wait!” Lithuania whispered, going into the tiny bag Belarus had given him and pulling out the bandana, Russia grabbing the bag while he wrapped it around his mouth and ears.

The bird was about to attack again, but he said something and it stopped in its tracks, flapping a few times before landing in front of them, before opening its wings and  
summoning the fire back to it.

He still heard banging though, and almost had a heart attack when he saw the creature trying to break in.

It was like a rhino. But bigger. With three horns and plated skin.

Lithuania said something, the thing shaking its head in return before he looked to the bird, who shot a fireball right at the rhino thing, hitting the metal bars and breaking it out.  
The thing walked out, before getting ready to ram into the wall, smashing it with ease.

The bird flew back into the hole in the wall, and the rhino went out the door they had come in from, going the same direction as the other two mythical creatures.

That was… a thing.

He let out a grunt went something was thrown at his head, catching the little dragon in his hands and putting it on his shoulder while Lithuania took the bandana off from around his mouth and Belarus tried to calm her nerves.

“You are a traitor,” he whispered to the dragon, the creature squeaking angrily at him before trying to climb his face.

“We need a cage for this thing.”

“We’ll buy one later,” Lithuania said, finally sounding like he was speaking instead of weird grunting noises. Russia handed him the bag back and he put the bandana in, following behind Belarus.

The next room was dark, and he noticed a metal sheet slid past the entrance when he walked through, the trio barely passing it a glance.

There was a chest.

And a lynx with antlers on top of said chest, sleeping.

“Calygreyhound.” Belarus whispered, “Lithuania, do you know it?”

“No,” he shook his head, “I don’t see a collar either.”

Russia was the only one who noticed that the creature opened an eye, grabbing his pipe and watching it while the two bickered.

The thing even put its head up, watching them intently, neither noticing while Russia had to do his best not to facepalm.

It stood at its full height, the fur on its back bristling as it let out a hiss, the two’s heads snapping as they watched it, it jumped down, watching them with slanted eyes.

At this point Russia noticed it was way too thin to have the body of a lynx, maybe a deer? Its hindlegs looked kinda like hooves, but the toes could move. Its front feet looked kind of birdish as well. It was grey with black stripes on its front half and spots on the back, and a swishing lion tail stood out.

It jumped and Russia smacked it in the head hard enough to knock it out.

“What if we needed it?” Lithuania said, panicked.

“That is a guard, not one of Alfred’s weird pets,” Russia said, “he was there to kill. A final trick.”

Belarus checked its heart rate while Russia went to the chest, picking it up. Like he expected, nothing happened.

It didn’t need a key, so he just opened it, pocketing an envelope, two new scrolls, a crystal that seemed to be filled with either fog or smoke, and a brick, the same color as the  
portal they’d walked into.

He looked to the back wall and noticed there was a missing brick, picking up the one from the chest carefully before pushing it into the slot.

“Wait!” Lithuania exclaimed, the Russian stopping before he could walk into the portal, “It has a fake bottom.”

He pulled out the bottom, before grabbing a gold coin, the only thing in there.

The fact that the coin had Cerberus on it did little to calm his nerves.

The three agreed to go back. The calygreyhound was still alive, and would probably be going out that hole Russia noticed open near the floor. He’d tried to put his foot in it, but a forcefield stopped him, so he was sure that the entire area was completed.

Russia took his time to check his phone to see how long they’d been in there and found that not even a minute had passed.

They shrugged it off, going back to the plane to get some well earned rest, while Russia snuck a peak at the riddle.

‘I am the sacrament to California, a concrete jungle of gold.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rhino thing is a karkadann  
> Bird that spit fire was not a phoenix, it was a firebird, two different myths, firebird is Slavic and the phoenix is Chinese


End file.
